


Change is in the air

by Ledgea



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aiden Lives (The Witcher), Alpha Aiden - Freeform, Alpha Eskel (The Witcher), Alpha Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angry Lambert (The Witcher), Angst with a Happy Ending, Complicated Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endgame Aiden/Lambert, Jewelry, Lambert and Jaskier don't get along, Lambert centric, Lambert's POV, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Jaskier | Dandelion, Omega Lambert (The Witcher), Past Rape/Non-con, Pushy Jaskier, Timeline What Timeline, Winter At Kaer Morhen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 58,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ledgea/pseuds/Ledgea
Summary: The first time Lambert sees Jaskier, he thinks the man is a beta. He's walking next to Geralt into Kaer Morhen's courtyard and looking around with wide eyes. Lambert eyes the newcomer suspiciously from the ladder he's perched on and turns his back to them when he spots Eskel coming to welcome him with a smile on his face.He still keeps an ear on the conversation taking place into the courtyard and decides that he doesn't care if Geralt brought his partner to the keep for the winter. Geralt is a grown man, Geralt lives here too, therefore Geralt is allowed to bring guests.Or : Lambert and Jaskier are omegas, Jaskier loves it and Lambert hates it.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Coën & Lambert (The Witcher), Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert, Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Lambert, Lambert & Vesemir (The Witcher)
Comments: 374
Kudos: 452





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi !!
> 
> Nice to see you, I hope you'll enjoy this story!!
> 
> I just want to share a few things that you might like to know before delving into the fic :
> 
> \- This fic is entirely written into Lambert's POV. So the point of view is going to be biased. Lambert will extrapolate, and what he perceives might not be what other people are trying to do or say. On that note, I don't plan to write Aiden, Geralt, Eskel, Vesemir or Jaskier's points of view, so feel free to make up your mind about what they think or mean to do :D
> 
> \- I try to focus on the emotional side of things (which I hope I'll manage), but there's going to be sex, I just won't be writing very detailed porn, that's not the focus here.
> 
> \- The relationships are going to evolve during the fic. The endgame is Aiden/Lambert and Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier.
> 
> \- I'm not detailing the specificities of my A/B/O universe, I hope that everything will appear clearly in the fic itself. If that is not the case, do not hesitate to tell me and I'll see what I can do to make things more intelligible.
> 
> \- The fic isn't completely finished yet, but I'm almost done ! I'll try to update it every three to four days until I'm done, and then it'll probably be every two days or every day.
> 
> And finally, I wish you a good reading ! Don't hesitate to let me know what you think of it!

The first time Lambert sees Jaskier, he thinks the man is a beta. He's walking next to Geralt into Kaer Morhen's courtyard and looking around with wide eyes. Lambert eyes the newcomer suspiciously from the ladder he's perched on and turns his back to them when he spots Eskel coming to welcome him with a smile on his face.

He still keeps an ear on the conversation taking place into the courtyard and decides that he doesn't care if Geralt brought his _partner_ to the keep for the winter. Geralt is a grown man, Geralt lives here too, therefore Geralt is allowed to bring guests. Lambert firmly doesn't think about what it'll mean for his heat later in the winter and wonders if his brother's partner is the first guest to ever enter Kaer Morhen.

Vesemir soon joins Eskel and hums and nods at Geralt's explanation and readily offers hospitality to the newcomer. Geralt calls him then, but Lambert continues to work on the wall he's patching up as if he doesn't hear his brother. Geralt and his guest finally head to the stables and then Eskel calls Lambert, and then Vesemir, and he still doesn't answer them.

He doesn't know how to feel about the stranger who's invading his home and is in no hurry to meet him. In the privacy of his own mind he can acknowledge that his grumpiness is due to the fact that he doesn't like change. He's also afraid that the newcomer will upset the balance they all have painfully established over the years.

He works on his patch of wall until the sun sets and goes down the ladder carefully. He then jogs up to the keep, suspiciously looks left and right and heads for the hot springs when he's sure no strange man is going to jump at him.

The hot springs are luckily empty and Lambert lingers a bit. He finally gets out of the water when his stomach starts to rumble, and heads up to the kitchen. He stops before the door when he hears an unfamiliar laugh and takes a deep breath before entering the small kitchen.

“Lambert,” Geralt greets him with a smile and raises his glass at him, “Good to see you. Come here, I've got someone you need to meet.”

“Geralt,” Lambert says and approaches the table warily to hug his brother.

“I'd like you to meet Jaskier, my partner. Jaskier meet my brother, Lambert.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jaskier says with a smile and extends his hand.

Lambert looks at the hand like it's a threat but shakes it anyway when Geralt insistently clears his throat.

“Like I already told the others,” Geralt says as he sits back down, “I'm sorry I didn't inform you that Jaskier would be coming along. We weren't sure of it until the last minute, had some details to iron out first.”

“It's fine,” Lambert says through gritted teeth, “You can bring whoever you want.”

Vesemir eyes him knowingly and frowns at him even as he hands him a glass of wine.

“Wine ?”, Lambert asks, surprised.

“Jaskier's gift,” Vesemir explains and Lambert nods at the man.

Eskel is sitting in his place and Lambert kicks him until he can sit down under everyone's exasperated stares. Supper goes by quickly and at the end of it, instead of staying in the kitchen to play cards and get drunk, and before Lambert can ask Jaskier for a song or two now that he knows that he is a bard, Geralt and Jaskier excuse themselves and disappear to the witcher's room.

Eskel soon follows them, because everyone knows that where Geralt goes, Eskel follows and vice versa, and Lambert ends up alone with Vesemir. He scowls into his drink, finishes it in one gulp and goes up to his room too, he's not in the mood to share a drink alone with Vesemir.

The next few days are the same. Lambert works alone on repairing walls, or on mucking up the stables, or on putting new tiles on the kitchen's roof, and only sees people during meals. Geralt and Eskel are completely obsessed with Jaskier, whom they spoil and don't seem to be able to let out of their sight, and then Lambert ends up alone with Vesemir in the evenings.

It takes him four days before he asks the old Wolf if he wants to play dice and weren't his loneliness so bad, he would have fucked off when he saw the pitying look Vesemir sent him. They spend a somewhat nice, if a bit awkward, evening playing dice while guzzling down white gull, because he needed the alcohol and Vesemir didn't object.

And on the seventh day after Geralt and Jaskier's arrival, the both of them enter the kitchen with Eskel in tow while Lambert is chopping vegetables and he looks up, startled, when Vesemir lets out a small sigh at his side.

The three of them are hovering on the threshold and Lambert stares and stares and stares at them. Jaskier is wearing jewelry. Omega jewelry, which doubtlessly have been gifted to him after a heat by his partner, and Lambert hadn't seen that coming, he had thought that the man was a beta for fuck's sake.

He's wearing a delicate necklace, a pair of earrings with a shiny blue stone in the middle of it and a bracelet. Supposing that they're all his brother – the bard doesn't seem to be the type to be rude enough to wear some other nameless alphas' gifts into Geralt's home – it means that his brother shared three heats with Jaskier by now. The bard isn't just some partner then, but a steady one.

His eyes are then drawn to Eskel and Geralt's hands, where he spots two rings. Seeing as he knows that Jaskier hasn't spent a rut with either of his brothers – they're rutting in winter, Eskel two weeks before Lambert's heat and Geralt one week before – they must have gifted the jewelry to each other.

Lambert knows that they've shared their ruts together for decades now, knows that they've shared their first ruts together even and that they've been steady since then, so it's only natural that they have jewelry to prove it. And Jaskier doesn't seem upset by the fact.

It's just that Geralt and Eskel have been sharing Lambert's heats for some years now – he never spent their ruts with them though, and Lambert is happy with that state of things – and Lambert doesn't have jewelry. Not one single piece. They never bothered to offer him something to indicate that they appreciated the trust Lambert showed them in his time of need.

Not that he really wants jewelry in the first place, or rather he had thought that he was fine with the lack of jewelry until now. After all, jewelry were for lovers, and they weren't lovers. Geralt and Eskel were just nice enough to offer him their help. They made it quite clear when they set their boundaries that they didn't want Lambert to see to them during their ruts, that they were just friends willing to help him get through his heat and that there was no hidden feelings waiting to come to light.

So Lambert had never asked about jewelry. He hadn't even expected it to be honest. But seeing them like that now, Jaskier sporting the marks of Geralt's true affection, he's jealous. Geralt showed his gratefulness through jewelry to the bard, someone he's shared a heat with _three_ times and Lambert, who he's helped for almost two decades now, hasn't been deemed worthy of even a measly anklet.

He's angry at his brothers, angry at Jaskier for pointing out the problems even if he's not aware of it and angry at himself for becoming upset about some tiny stupid piece of jewelry that he hadn't even known he longed for. He sneers at the three men, lets go of his knife, takes a loaf of bread, two raw carrots and a mug of ale and stalks out of the room.

Jaskier lets out a small pained sound when Lambert passes him and tries to grab his arm, before Geralt wisely intervenes and holds him back. Eskel offers him a sad smile and Lambert feels tears start to pool in his eyes. _Fuck_ , he thinks, _I'm not that emotional usually._ He goes up to his room, deposits his meagre supper on his desk and throws himself on his bed.

He then buries his face into his pillow and screams. He keeps screaming for a few minutes, even as his tears soak through the pillow, and curses his brothers and Jaskier and his parents and the long dead witchers until he's exhausted himself.

He then gets up again, eats his supper and goes back to bed. He's woken up by a knock at his door probably a few hours later.

“Go away,” he mumbles into his pillow and sighs when he's ignored and the door is pushed open.

He hears someone approaching him, the footsteps too light to be Jaskier's – he's glad of it – and tenses when the man stops next to his bed.

“I'm sorry,” Eskel whispers in the dark and carefully extends his hand to squeeze his shoulder.

“Go away,” Lambert repeats.

“Goodnight Lambert,” Eskel murmurs and heads for the door.

Lambert's glad Eskel didn't push. He doesn't want to explain himself. Doesn't want to explain why he feels hurt, despite being perfectly aware that he shouldn't. It's nothing rational and Lambert hates being irrational.

He decides to let the matter go for now and goes back to sleep. This new feeling won't go away, Jaskier won't go away and the awkwardness won't go away. He'll be able to think about the problem well enough tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter : past rape is mentioned and other past heat-related unpleasantness.
> 
> See you soon!

Lambert wakes up late, makes sure that no one is in the kitchen when he comes down to take his breakfast and then heads out to the stables. He exercises the horses, cleans their stalls and brushes them, and isn't really surprised when he hears Geralt and Jaskier coming his way mid-morning.

Lambert crouches down next to Eskel's horse and hopes that his two unwelcome visitors will just leave when they won't see him.

"Lambert," Geralt softly calls him, "We know you're here. Come out, please."

Lambert sighs and gets up with such a big fake smile on his face that Geralt winces when he sees him. 

"Brother dear," Lambert chirps and ignores Jaskier, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit on this fine morning ?"

He may be laying it on a bit thick with the fake cheerfulness, but he knows that it unnerves Geralt more to see him fake happiness than to show his displeasure so he keeps doing it.

"I... Fuck, Lambert. I'm sorry, alright ?"

And because Lambert never learned to let things go, he just can't keep his mouth shut.

"For what ?", he asks and regrets it immediately when he's faced with Geralt's pained face and Jaskier's pensive one.

And as far as Lambert can tell, Geralt, or Eskel for that matter, doesn't have anything to be sorry for. By all means Eskel should be the one upset by Jaskier's presence. The three of them have always been clear with one another about what they wanted and what they didn't want, and it was Lambert's own fault for feeling hurt over another omega's stupid presence.

"Forget it," he adds quickly and hopes that Geralt will be smarter than him and won't try to answer.

"I'm sorry for hurting you," Geralt still says and Lambert drops the big smile and sneers.

"You didn't hurt me," he snaps, "You're free to bed who the fuck you want, Geralt !"

Jaskier opens his mouth and Lambert is glad that Geralt shakes his head and that the bard takes the hint and stays silent. They watch each other warily for a few more seconds and then Jaskier starts to fiddle with his bracelet and plunges his hand into Geralt's pocket.

Lambert hears something jingling softly and Geralt makes another pained face. Lambert looks at him in horror and he just knows that he has some jewelry in his pocket.

He doesn't know if Geralt had already planned to offer him something this winter, or if Jaskier talked him into it. And then wonders if he's going to end up being presented by one piece of jewelry originally meant for Jaskier or worse, by one belonging to the bard that he would have agreed to part with, so that the unadorned whiny poor witcher omega could have something shiny to make him feel better.

"Don't get that hand out of Geralt's pocket," Lambert growls.

He lived his whole life without jewelry, and he's not going to accept some given out of pity now. Jaskier sets his face in a stubborn scowl and slowly begins to take his hand out of Geralt's pocket anyway.

"I'm serious ! You give me that, I'll meld it and pour it into both of your drinks one evening," Lambert threatens.

And finally Geralt intervenes and takes a hold of Jaskier's hand to stop him from doing whatever he wants. 

"But Geralt !", Jaskier whines, "We agreed !"

"No, you told us to do it, Eskel refused and I agreed to _try_ your idea. I told you that it probably wouldn't work," he explains gently and Lambert wants to punch the both of them.

"Get the fuck out," Lambert sneers at them.

Geralt nods at him, Jaskier stares at him with disappointed eyes and Lambert watches them go with an unhappy frown. He shakes his head once they've disappeared from his line of sight and turns back to Eskel's horse who he still needs to finish brushing. 

He doesn't linger when he's done and heads up to the kitchen for an early quick and solitary dinner, before he heads to the still room. He closes the door behind him and lets out a relieved sigh. He feels safe here. It's his room, with his two stills and his bottles of alcohol, and everyone knows not to bother him when he decides to hide in here.

They all have a room that's entirely theirs. Vesemir has his bedroom, where no one ever set foot, and Eskel has some sort of office next to his own room. Geralt arranged the small closet next to his own bedroom into some sort of den with blankets and pillows where he goes to brood in peace and silence when he's grumpy, and as far as Lambert knows not even Eskel is welcomed in there.

He checks on his stills, fiddles with his bottles, selects a few to take up with him to the kitchen later and then sits down at his desk and peruses his notebook. He's making notes on how to improve cherry plum liquor when he hears footsteps in the hallway leading to the still room. He scowls and tenses and just knows that it is Jaskier, he's too noisy to pass for a witcher.

The bard knocks and opens the door before he can tell him to fuck off and Lambert is already annoyed with him. Luckily for him he stays in the hallway and doesn't actually come into the room. Lambert refuses to acknowledge him and stays at his desk. Jaskier sighs behind him and clears his throat.

“Lambert, can we talk, please ?”

“No,” Lambert answers.

“Right,” Jaskier mutters, “Then you can just listen. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot, wouldn't you agree ? And I don't really know how to convey to you that I don't want to take your place or to take Eskel and Geralt away from you or whatever you're thinking.”

“You can't take them away if they're not mine in the first place,” Lambert grumbles.

“But they're yours in some capacity !”, Jaskier exclaims, “They care about you and they've been sharing your heats for years.”

Lambert finally turns around and glares at the bard.

“They've been helping me, nothing more, nothing less. I don't know what Geralt told you, but there's no _feelings_ involved here,” Lambert sneers, “I'm not some fragile omega you need to placate because you feel bad about the situation. If you don't want them sharing my heat anymore, just say it, I'll cope.”

Jaskier sighs, closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“That's not... Look, I don't want to take them away, you want them to help you during your heat, they can, I'm not going to forbid it. Not that they would listen to me anyway. I just... I was hoping that we could build some relationship together. Maybe even share our heats later this winter ? It's been a while since I've shared a heat with an omega, and I'm delaying mine enough for it to hit during winter, so if you're interested...”

“I'm not,” Lambert says firmly, “I don't need your pity.”

“It's not pity,” Jaskier contradicts him, “I'm trying to build something here, mend your relationships and carve a new place for myself, preferably without upsetting anyone. Which I apparently unknowingly did anyway and I'm sorry for it.”

“I'm not upset and there's nothing to _mend_ because there's nothing broken,” Lambert sneers back.

He gets up from his seat and starts to pace. He knows that what he has with Eskel and Geralt isn't traditional, but it has worked well for decades, and this upstart that has been here a week thinks that he just knows how they all fit together and that he'll be able to make everything better suited to his tastes. _Fuck him and his fucking ideas._

Jaskier rolls his eyes at him and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Sure, not upset at all,” Jaskier mutters under his breath and adds more firmly, “Look, Geralt told me that you hate being an omega.”

“Oh, _Geralt told you_ , did he ?”, Lambert retorts in a biting tone.

“And I just... I don't understand. You have two alphas ready to answer your every demands and an omega willing to help you through it. Share with me, I'll share with you, and we'll all have a good time.”

“I don't want to enjoy it and I certainly don't want you to see me begging for cock while I'm completely out of my mind !”, Lambert snaps.

“I really don't understand why you wouldn't want it to be pleasurable,” Jaskier comments with a frown.

“Because I didn't choose it !,” Lambert shouts and Jaskier flinches.

“But being an omega's nice,” Jaskier whispers like he doesn't get it at all.

“As if,” Lambert sneers.

He doesn't know how things are done in noble households, but he remembers how it was done in his home. His father had been a beta, his mother an omega, and it had been hell. When his mother had been in heat, his father had sometimes been present the first day and then there had been drinking and other men who came to drag him to the tavern and he had inevitably left.

He had always promised to come back to take care of his mother, and he had always come back too drunk to honor his promise. He had berated her for her neediness and her pleading instead, sometimes had struck her when he couldn't bear to hear her beg for his cock anymore and had usually dumped her on the ground while he had collapsed in a drunken stupor on the bed and had fallen asleep.

Lambert had been left to care for his mother then, to bring her water and some food, to make sure that she didn't run off with another person who would take advantage of her, and once when she had been really out of it, on the second day of her heat, she had even begged Lambert to make her feel good. He'll remember her pleading empty expression till the end of his days, and he can't bear to think that he may look like her in his own heat.

And that is not even counting the trauma the witchers inflicted upon him some years later. He remembers waking up at the end of the second day of his second heat, with no memory of the last day, with a knot in his cunt, and a wooden cock in his ass and fingers wrapped around his hard prick, and Brich telling him that he had begged and begged and begged for it, and Lambert had never felt more disgusted with himself than at that moment.

Of course it had been meant as a lesson. The year after they first presented, all alphas were paired with an omega in heat, and all omegas with an alpha in rut. You didn't get to choose your partner and to Lambert's horror, he had found himself locked up with his teacher Brich.

The man had taught alchemy and Lambert had liked him. He had been good at alchemy and master Brich had always made sure that Lambert knew that he appreciated his talents and the effort he put into this class.

And if they had chosen an alpha he already hated, he would have been fine. It would just have been just another thing to add to the endless list of things he hated the witchers for already, but they had chosen someone Lambert had _liked_ because they had known that it would hurt him more. And hurt it had.

Lambert had still been coherent on the first day, while Brich, in his second day of rut already, had been lost to the need to fuck and had manhandled – gently, pain hadn't been his goal, but relentlessly and forcefully all the same – Lambert to do what he wanted. As he had already been in heat, Lambert's body had craved the man's touch as much as his mind had hated it. He remembers whimpering in relief at his teacher's touch one second, only to wail in anguish the next.

Lambert knows that Brich had come back to himself at the end of that first day, and that he himself had gotten lost to the need to be fucked on the second day. He doesn't remember it, he never remembers his second day of heat, doesn't know if he had really begged to be raped like Brich had told him – it probably was true – he just knows that he had felt awful in the aftermath.

Brich had stayed for the third day too, but Lambert, despite feeling the need to be fucked, had been coherent enough to threaten to bite his cock off if he laid another hand on him, and the older witcher had nodded and smiled sadly but proudly at him. He had settled for petting him for the rest of the day to calm his need and Lambert remembers leaning into the touch, silently begging for more, even as tears had poured down his cheeks because he just couldn't control his body.

It was the only heat he had been forced to share with someone – they were all free to do as they wanted after that – and he had learned the lesson and learned it well. Don't go into heat on the Path, or do it at your own risk, and choose your partner very very carefully, lest you don't like the aftermath. He has never shared another heat with an alpha in rut since then. He usually tends to avoid alphas altogether really.

So Jaskier's idea that it's nice to be an omega doesn't speak to Lambert at all. For him being an omega means pain and humiliation and degradation, and the less people see him like that, the better. Eskel and Geralt have been nice in that regard, they did their jobs, didn't comment and never told him what he was like on the second day of his heat. So having to trust Jaskier, still a stranger for now, with it doesn't appeal to him in the slightest.

“I don't know what happened to you,” Jaskier says, “But I'm sure that I can help you through that shit. We can build new memories together, you, Eskel, Geralt and me.”

Lamberts sneers at that, because apparently the bard still hasn't understood that it's nothing like _that_ between him and his brothers and Jaskier rolls his eyes at him.

“You're insufferable,” Jaskier adds with a smile, opens his arms wide as if he wants to hug Lambert and steps into the room.

Lambert punches him in the stomach, the attack a reflex because his personal space is being breached without his consent. He somewhat pulls his punch, but Jaskier still flies backwards and ends up sprawled on his back in the corridor wheezing.

“Don't get in there,” Lambert snaps at him as he heads out.

“The fuck ?”, Jaskier wheezes as Lambert grips his shirt and tugs him upright.

He then drags him up to the kitchen, backtracks when he finds it empty and heads for the library. He finds Vesemir there, and the old Wolf immediately gets up when he spots them.

“What happened ?”, he asks him, concerned.

“I punched him.”

“Lambert,” Vesemir growls disappointingly at him.

“He got into the still room without my permission,” Lambert snaps back and Vesemir shuts his mouth, grimaces and nods, he knows that an unspoken rule of the keep has just been broken and for once, he's on Lambert's side.

“I'll take care of him,” Vesemir sighs and sends him away.

Lambert nods back and heads out of the library. He spends the rest of the afternoon in the still room and when he comes back up for supper, Jaskier and Geralt are nowhere to be seen. Eskel is sitting at the table with Vesemir though, but his brother only apologizes on Jaskier's behalf and promises him that it won't happen again.

“It better not,” Lambert snaps, “Or I'm invading your office and Geralt's den.”

Eskel nods in understanding.

“We told him not to go in,” Eskel sighs, “But he can be pushy sometimes...”

“I hadn't noticed,” Lambert mutters.

“... and I don't mind it, but it might bother you. Geralt is reminding him of a few things right about now.”

Supper is awkward and Eskel disappears with two plates once they're done. Lambert isn't in the mood for a game of dice or even for conversation tonight, he knows that he'll probably end up screaming at Vesemir, so he leaves too and heads up to his room. He closes the door, debates locking it but decides against it, and jumps into bed. Unsurprisingly he has nightmares and wakes up gasping several times during the night. Just another thing he'll be able to blame the damn bard for.


	3. Chapter 3

Geralt waits another day to seek him out. Lambert is staying - hiding, really - in the still room again, when someone knocks on his door. He sighs, wonders if he should answer and decides to just ignore it. Another knock follows.

"Lambert," Geralt says, "Come on, I just want to talk with you."

"Fuck off," Lambert grumbles.

"You missed dinner. I brought you a plate."

Lambert's stomach betrays him at the mention of food and loudly rumbles. He rolls his eyes, gets up and opens the door with a scowl firmly set upon his face. He finds Geralt on the other side looking smug. Lambert then tries to steal the plate his brother is holding in the hope of being able to retreat to the still room to eat in peace. Geralt tuts disapprovingly and takes a step back.

"You're not eating alone," Geralt says, "Come on, I brought a few furs down with me, we'll settle on the stairs."

"Fine," Lambert sighs and follows him into the hallway.

True to Geralt's word, there are two furs waiting for them on the nearby stairs and Lambert settles onto the one higher up. Geralt hands him his plate when he's settled and sits two steps down of him. He watches him dig in in silence for a while before he speaks.

"I'm not mad with you," Geralt says with a serious face, "I don't like the fact that you punched Jaskier, but I understand why you did it."

"Would have done the same for you or Eskel or Vesemir," Lambert says with his mouth full as Geralt grimaces.

"I know," Geralt nods, "And I told him not to go in. Jaskier just... He's always like that when he's confronted with a problem or with something he thinks needs fixing, he pushes and pushes until it moves like he wants it to. That's why we're together actually, because he was too stubborn to let me go, and why it's starting to work between Jaskier, Eskel and me, he's too stubborn to let Eskel sacrifice himself for us."

"Good for you," Lambert mutters, "But did it occur to him that my relationship with you isn't the same as what you share with Eskel ?"

Geralt lets out a sigh.

"He saw you hurting and he wants to fix it now."

"There's nothing to fix," Lambert snarls, "Everything..."

Lambert suddenly snaps his mouth shut, because he was going to say that everything had been fine before Geralt brought Jaskier back with him, and he's not that much of an asshole to throw _that_ in his brother's face. No point making everything worse. Geralt hums and looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"Everything's fine," Lambert mutters quietly, looks down at his plate and busies himself with finishing it.

"We both know that isn't exactly true."

"Fuck you, Geralt, why do you insist to poke at things now ? We do the best we can with our shitty circumstances. We always have and we always will."

Geralt hums again and Lambert hands him his clean plate. Geralt points at a stair behind Lambert and he finds a mug of ale there. He nods his thanks and waits until he's downed half of it to speak again.

"He wants me to share his heat," Lambert mumbles at the floor, "And he'll probably expect to share mine in return."

He raises his head after a few seconds of silence to find out that Geralt looks constipated, he's not especially overjoyed at the idea then.

"Didn't he tell you ?", Lambert asks.

"Yes," Geralt answers with a shake of his head, "His heat is still a few weeks away, he's on suppressants for now, so we didn't really speak about it intensively. We've been working on making things work with Eskel too, it had seemed more important for now."

"You don't seem happy about it though," Lambert comments.

"It's his heat, he can ask for what he wants."

"But you're not happy about it."

Geralt doesn't answer and averts his eyes guiltily.

"Hey, I'm not exactly happy about it either," Lambert reassures him and squeezes his brother's shoulder, "Like I said before, you and Eskel are different from you and me, I don't have a place in your heart."

"That's not true !", Geralt exclaims and finally looks up at him again, "Don't say things like that. You matter too !"

Lambert sighs. This conversation is starting to feel exhausting.

"Don't be a moron, that's not what I meant and you know it ! We both know that you care about me, you wouldn't have offered to satisfy my needs during my heats all these years ago if you hadn't cared. And I wouldn't have agreed to it if I hated you. There's just a... lack of _romantic_ feelings involved here. And I'm not sure your bard realises that."

Geralt hums.

"Never thought to hear you put that into words."

"Never thought I'd have to," Lambert snarks back, finishes his mug, gives it to Geralt and gets up.

Geralt speaks up before he can close the door to the still room behind him.

"He's not trying to be mean," Geralt says, "Jaskier, I mean, he's doing his best."

"Just tell him to stop poking at matters that don't concern him," Lambert mutters back, "He'll end up hurting someone otherwise."

"I'll tell him," Geralt says, "Not sure he'll listen but I can try. Come to supper ? Jaskier wants to play music tonight and Vesemir said that you... that he misses us in the evenings."

Lambert shakes his head at his brother's probably intentional slip of the tongue and closes the door behind him.

"I'll be there," he says through the door and sits back down at his desk with a sigh.

When it's time for supper, Lambert looks around the still room and selects a cherry liquor to bring with him as some sort of peace offering. He sets it down in front of a sitting Jaskier as soon as he enters the kitchen, and mumbles a quick _suitable for humans_ when Geralt raises his eyebrows at him. The bard beams at him, opens the bottle, sniffs it and makes some weird happy noises.

Lambert shrugs as Geralt and Eskel disgustingly beam at him too and he takes his place at the table.

"You're all hopeless," Vesemir sighs at the head of the table, "Eskel, bring the stew."

Eskel hastens to obey and they all quickly hand him their plates to be served. He rolls his eyes but wordlessly complies and they all soon tuck in. Vesemir asks about Geralt's year, which none of them have managed to do yet, and then asks Jaskier about what his life following Geralt on the Path is like.

Jaskier then asks about Lambert's year and then about the most interesting places they've all been to and, to Lambert's surprise, the meal passes agreeably quickly.

When they're done, Jaskier takes care of the dishes while Lambert fetches some glasses for the liquor and Geralt disappears to look for Jaskier's lute and some Gwent decks. Vesemir and Eskel settle at one end of the table with dice, Jaskier leans against Eskel's shoulder with his lute in hand, and Geralt hands Lambert his Gwent deck with such pleading eyes that he doesn't even want to refuse his brother.

They're halfway through their first game when the bard compliments him on his bottle, and Lambert nods at him while everyone agrees with Jaskier's judgment. Between the company, the alcohol, the games and the music, it's a fairly pleasurable evening and Lambert is glad to find some normalcy again.

Things calm down after that. Jaskier stops badgering Lambert about their heats, but still insists on spending time with him. He usually sits next to him and plays or sings, sometimes helps, especially when they both end up on cooking duty or in the armoury to sharpen the blades. Jaskier still frowns at him puzzled and unhappy sometimes, but keeps his mouth shut about what is bothering it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit short, because I'm unable to write chapters which always have the same amount of words :D
> 
> Next chapter is going up this week-end, it'll be longer :p
> 
> Don't hesitate to share your thoughts in the comments and see you soon!


	4. Chapter 4

Winter slowly progresses, they get snowed in, are forced to stay mostly inside and so have to find new ways to entertain themselves. Seeing as Eskel, Geralt and Jaskier develop the new annoying habit of disappearing at odd times of the day together, Lambert is usually left alone with Vesemir.

The situation is quite unfortunate, because Lambert's relationship with Vesemir is somewhat strained. So he learns to keep his mouth shut and Vesemir learns to keep his comments to himself and they manage to cohabit mostly peacefully together.

And then Eskel has the wonderful idea to go into rut. Lambert knows that his brother can't do anything about it, but he's still cross with him, because it means that his own heat is approaching and Lambert has done his best not to think about it for the last few weeks.

Lambert is actually making bread one morning, under Vesemir's judgmental gaze, when his two brothers and Jaskier join them. Lambert scowls as soon as Eskel steps into the room. He's smelling faintly of rut, exuding sharp and spicy alpha pheromones, and Lambert knows that they only have two more days left before the inevitable happens.

Eskel doesn't seem bothered by that fact, he's his customary nice and helpful self, if more touchy than usual. Lambert lets him squeeze his shoulders or ruffle his hair or hug him as Eskel needs it, and Geralt and Jaskier are always nearby, ready to shower Eskel with affection and answer his every demands.

Eskel is glowing under their attention, even Vesemir comments on his healthy and happy disposition when they share a hug on the first evening of his brother's two pre-rut days, and Jaskier seems delighted by the process taking place under his eyes. He's always close to Eskel, always touching and humming and kissing and rubbing himself all over Eskel's throat and face, and Lambert wonders how he does it.

Even if Lambert intellectually knows that the smell of rut growing stronger and stronger belongs to his brother, who never did anything to him, he's still uneasy. He can't stop himself from tensing in his embrace, memories of Brich always coming back to his mind. He still lets him hug him, because it's what Eskel needs to be comfortable, and he's not going to deny him what his body craves.

On the third morning, Eskel, Geralt and Jaskier don't come down to breakfast and Lambert shares a resigned look with Vesemir over their bread, jam, eggs and jerky. They know what it means and Lambert scowls even as he goes up to Eskel's room to bring something to eat and drink to the three of them.

The smell of Eskel's rut is unbearably strong in the hallway and Lambert scrunches up his nose in distate. He knocks sharply on his brother's door, ignores the moans and whimpers he's hearing and goes back down before someone opens the door and traumatizes him.

Lambert's on feeding duty for the whole three days, because Vesemir tends to avoid them when they're either in rut or heat. None of them know why exactly the old Wolf is acting that way, he must have seen others in the same state before, but they respect his wishes anyway.

To be fair, they don't know much about Vesemir in the first place, they don't even know what his secondary gender is. Lambert doesn't remember smelling heat or rut on him ever. He's categorized him as a beta, even if Geralt thinks that he's an alpha and Eskel an omega and that he plans his heats or ruts in summer when they're all out on the Path, if he even still has them.

They have some bets going on about that between them, and Lambert just hopes that they'll be able to settle them before the old man dies and takes his secret to his grave. It'd be a shame for the money and favours they bet on it.

And finally on the sixth morning after Eskel's pre-rut started, the three of them come back down to breakfast. They smell awful, even if they're wet from having taken a bath, and Lambert knows that Eskel's rut scent will linger for at least two more days until he stops emitting pheromones for a year.

Eskel looks radiant as he enters the kitchen and he proudly wears a new ring on his left hand He hugs Lambert and Vesemir to greet them and rubs his cheek on their throats. Lambert grumbles but lets him do it, it's not his fault he'll feel touchy for his two post-rut days too, and hands him a slice of bread covered in jam when Eskel's done. His brother smiles at him and devours it in a few seconds. Lambert shakes his head and continues to feed him.

Geralt and Jaskier on the other hand look tired. It seems that Eskel ran them ragged during the last three days, but under Eskel's alpha scent, Lambert can smell their happiness and contentment and is finally reassured that everything went well.

On the next two days, they all take things slowly. Lambert finds Eskel, Geralt and Jaskier napping together in the library several times and refuses the bard's invitation to join them on the second afternoon. He narrows his eyes suspiciously at him even as he declines the invitation and goes on his way ignoring Jaskier's contemplative stare. He can feel trouble brewing though, and hurries back down to his safe still room, it had probably been too much to ask that the bard drop everything heat related completely.

A few days after Eskel, Jaskier starts to go into heat too. He comes down alone one morning, smelling like Eskel and Geralt like usual, but Lambert detects some kind of sweet and floral scent underneath it. 

Jaskier attaches himself to Lambert's arm as soon as he sees him, and Lambert lets him do as he pleases and pats his head gingerly. When Geralt and Eskel arrive a few minutes later, they're accompanied by the spicy scent of alpha pheromones and Lambert stares at Geralt in astonishment, he hadn't known that he and Jaskier had planned to synch their heat and rut.

Jaskier beams at the newcomers, leaves his side to cling to Geralt, who happily nuzzles his throat under Eskel's intent interested stare. At least bloodshed doesn't seem to be imminent, Lambert is glad to note.

Vesemir grunts at them to _sit the fuck down and eat already_ , and Jaskier seems to notice him for the first time this morning. He lets out a small surprised sound, abandons Geralt and hugs Vesemir with a small squeal of delight.

In the meantime Geralt heads for Lambert to hug him too and Lambert swats at him when he starts humming against the nape of his neck. Geralt can keep his stupid biological neediness for Eskel and Jaskier.

During his two days of pre-heat, Jaskier only seems to glow brighter and brighter. He constantly seeks out touch, burrows into Geralt and Eskel's chests in front of the library fire, insists that Lambert holds him so that he can nap and on one memorable occasion wraps himself around Vesemir and starts to hum against the old Wolf's throat. 

Geralt is needy too, albeit less effusive about it than Jaskier. He keeps hugging Eskel and Jaskier, sits close to them at the table, ruffles Lambert's hair several times a day and fucking beams when Vesemir agrees to let him and Jaskier use his stomach as a pillow one evening. Lambert lets out a small pained sound when he hears Vesemir agree to Geralt's request and leaves, he doesn't want nor need to be privy to that.

Eskel seems happier too, probably because Geralt, following Jaskier's example, is being more free with his affections than usual. And Vesemir doesn't seem overly bothered by the two hugging monsters either.

And then there's him, who, even if he tries to hide it, is rather uncomfortable with what is going on. He just can't understand how Jaskier manages to be so relaxed and trusting around them and so happy about losing his mind begging to be touched and fucked, especially by Eskel whom he's know for only a few weeks. He knows that he'd be incapable of it.

The smell isn't helping matters either. And while Eskel seems to love to bask into the growing scents of his lovers' coming rut and heat, Lambert finds himself often retiring to the still room to catch his breath and make his unreasonable fear go away.

So when Eskel, Geralt and Jaskier don't come down to breakfast on the third day, Lambert is relieved. He's glad that the scents of mingling rut and heat slowly disappear from the communal areas and he enjoys the calm and quiet while it lasts. He still goes up to bring them food and drinks three times a day and hurries away from Geralt's door as soon as he's sure that Eskel heard him knocking.

He and Vesemir are not expecting them before another three days, so they're rather surprised to see Eskel stumbling into the kitchen on the last day of his lovers' rut and heat. The first thing Lambert notices is the smell. He scrunches up his nose because his brother reeks of rutting alpha and omega in heat, and Lambert doubts that he washed before coming down.

"Hot springs are that way," Vesemir grumbles when Eskel enters and points down at the other side of the castle with a grimace.

"Useless," Eskel grunts tiredly, "I'm going back up in a few minutes. I just... I just need a damn break."

Lambert snorts and hands him a mug of tea.

"Are they working you too hard, old man ?", Lambert asks with a smirk.

"They're insatiable," Eskel answers with a small smile.

"I don't need to know that," Vesemir grunts and pushes several toats towards Eskel, "So shut up and eat."

They share their breakfast in companionable silence and Lambert then helps Eskel to take food and tea upstairs for Geralt and Jaskier. He sets his armful down in front of Geralt's bedroom door, but Eskel grabs his arm before he can head back down.

"Jaskier told me to ask you if you wanted to come in with us," Eskel says with a small apologetic grimace.

"He's in _heat_ ," Lambert says, aghast, "Geralt's in _rut_."

"They're coherent again, if that is what is bothering you," Eskel explains, "Listen we both know that you won't say yes. I'm just passing on the message because Jaskier wants you to know that the door is open should you want to come in."

"I thought he fucking understood by now," Lambert mutters, "Just because you three are working, it doesn't mean that I should be too !"

"I know," Eskel sighs, "I know. He has that idea though that seeing him enjoying his heat with Geralt in rut at his side will help you work through a few things."

"That's not his fucking business," Lambert hisses back, "I told you, told him, that I'm fine !"

"If you say so," Eskel agrees dubiously, "He's meaning well, you know, just trying to help."

"Well he can shove his help up his ass," Lambert growls. 

He stalks back down in a hurry stewing in his anger and bangs the kitchen's door shut behind him.

"What now ?", Vesemir sighs at him.

"I'm going hunting," Lambert snarls at him.

"Not in that state," Vesemir contradicts him and plants himself in front of the door.

"Then I'm going fishing."

"The lake's frozen."

"Nothing a few bombs will not solve."

"I don't know what happened, but you're _not_ going out in that state."

"You're not my damn father," Lambert yells at him in anger.

"Maybe not," Vesemir concedes calmly, "But I'm the one who's going to have to search for you if something happens. So you're staying put."

"Then give me something to do !"

Vesemir frowns at him and Lambert wonders if the old Wolf will ask what is wrong instead. Lambert doesn't know what he'll say to him in that case.

"There's a big pile of dirty laundry to wash if you're looking for something to take your mind off whatever Eskel told you."

"Fine," Lambert grunts and elbows Vesemir out of the way to get out.

He heads down to the hot springs, leaves the pools behind him and enters a small adjacent room they arranged as a washing room over the years.

Lambert's mood doesn't improve when he catches the smell of Geralt's rut and Jaskier's heat in the pile of dirty garments, and with a little big of digging, he finds the clothes the two stupid idiots wore in the two days leading up to their heat and rut.

He debates leaving the mess as it is, but finally fetches some soap, water to fill a basin and a scrubbing board. He starts with the foul smelling garments, and if Jaskier's clothes end up a bit frayed, well it's certainly not Lambert's fault.

He calms down after a while and manages to think rationally about Jaskier's latest offer. He has to concede that he probably wouldn't have minded sharing the beginning or the end of his heat with him if they had been strangers – just not the second day, he doesn't think that he could stomach that –, but he absolutely refuses to go near him now that he's involved with his brothers and that one of them is in rut at his side.

Moreover Jaskier's head already seems to be filled with strange ideas, and he doesn't want to encourage him. He's still a bit unreasonably peeved about the jewelry - it'll pass though - but he's fine otherwise. He doesn't need his brothers or Jaskier's romantic feelings, and more importantly he doesn't want them. It'll only complicate his life anyway.

On the same page, he doesn't want to be an omega, doesn't want to be an alpha either - a beta would have been nice, but Lambert has never been lucky -, and he doesn't understand why Jaskier can't comprehend that some people hate their secondary gender. 

And Lambert's allowed to hate it, it's his choice, and he doesn't need some upstart bard to tell him how to live his own damn life. He doesn't try to tell Jaskier to hate it, he might not understand him, but he can respect his choices. He's just asking for the bard to drop the subject, dammit, it musn't be that complicated to be left in peace.

He's calmed down by the time he hangs the last of the laundry to dry, and when he gets out of the room, he decides to jump into one of the hot springs' pools and enjoys the quiet. He must doze off unexpectedly, because he's rudely woken up by Vesemir loudly clearing his throat right next to him.

"What ?", he groggily asks him.

"You missed dinner and the other three are waiting."

"Fuck, can't you go up for once ?"

"No."

"Call Eskel down ?"

"No. Stop lazing around and get up."

"See if I wash your pants the next time I'm on laundry duty," Lambert grumbles even as he complies.

He follows Vesemir to the kitchen, heads up to Geralt's room to provision them and hurries away before the door opens. When he gets back down Vesemir hands him a plate full of stew and then gets an entire apple pie out of a cupboard.

“Why are you getting it out now ?”, Lambert wonders, “The others won't be up until tomorrow.”

“It's not for them,” Vesemir says with a shake of his head, “I used the last of the apples to make it so you better enjoy it.”

“What do you want ?”, Lambert asks him suspiciously.

“Eat your dinner, we'll talk over dessert.”

So Lambert slowly finishes his plate and watches Vesemir as he brews some tea and does the dishes. He has a feeling he's going to participate in an awfully uncomfortable conversation. Vesemir pours the tea, cuts the pie and hands him the biggest slice. It definitely is going to be uncomfortable then.

“I know what you're going through,” Vesemir tells him when Lambert has his mouth full, “I know why you're wary around alphas, why you avoid alphas in rut like the pest. I... I was the same.”

“You're not a beta ?”, Lambert squeaks.

“You're still horrible at guessing secondrary genders,” Vesemir chuckles, “For your information, I'm not a beta, but alpha, omega, does it really matter ?”

“I guess not,” Lambert frowns and takes another slice of pie.

“What I want to say is that I understand why you're acting the way you are. And you shouldn't let the bard pressure you into doing things you don't want to do just because he thinks he knows best.”

“I was not going to,” Lambert mutters petulantly.

“Good,” Vesemir nods, “ _But_ you might still consider some of his advice. He's a noble, he won't ever totally understand what you went through. They like female alphas and male omegas in noble families, twice as many opportunities to marry and twice the chance to carry on the family name, you see. So if someone knows about enjoying being an omega, it would be him.”

“Do you enjoy it ? Being an omega or an alpha ?”, Lambert wonders softly.

“I certainly didn't in the beginning, that's for sure,” Vesemir sighs and Lambert nods in understanding, “It took me a few years to learn, had to meet the right people along the way. I had a few good years. But time passed and then there was the sacking and everything fell apart.”

“I'm sorry,” Lambert mumbles.

“I try not to dwell on it too much,” Vesemir grimaces, “Anyway, what I wanted to say was that if you want to try, being an omega can be more than an unpleasant chore you have to endure.”

Lambert hums thoughtfully and takes a third slice of pie as Vesemir starts on his second.

“I'm glad you managed to enjoy it, I'm glad Jaskier enjoys it and I'm fucking glad Eskel and Geralt have each other, I just... I dont't think that I can be happy about being an omega though. I've seen and endured too much shit to forget the misery that comes with it.”

“That's for you to decide,” Vesemir nods.

“And Jaskier wants things, because as far as I can tell Geralt told him things, and he has some weird ideas now, and I'm sure that I don't want _those_ things.”

“Then stick with what you're comfortable with. Geralt and Eskel will continue helping you through your heat, and if you don't want Jaskier there, then he has no business being there. And if you insist on being miserable and grumpy about it like usual, then it's your choice too. But _if_ you ever want something more, then know that it can happen too.”

“Thanks,” Lambert whispers before stuffing his face full of pie.

“You're welcome. Now be a good witcher and forget we ever had this conversation, will you ?”

“With pleasure,” Lambert answers with a small grimace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Next update tuesday evening!


	5. Chapter 5

When Jaskier, Geralt and Eskel join them for breakfast on the morrow, Lambert makes an effort not to stare at the omega's new bracelet and new earrings and at the alpha's new ring. He greets them with a smile, dodges Jaskier's hug because he's still a bit mad about him sticking his nose in things that don't concern him, but ruffles his hair when he pathetically whines having been denied touch and still craving it.

Geralt and Jaskier slowly come down of their high in the next two days and, six days after them, Lambert wakes up with an itch under his skin he just can't scratch and he knows that the first of his two pre-heat days is starting.

He bemoans his fate and as usual decides to ignore it. And as usual he can't. The itch won't go away on its own and he so so longs to be touched. He doesn't crave sex yet, but just imagining his brothers hugging him makes him want to run towards them.

He braces himself against the want, because he refuses to become a slave to his own stupid baseless urges, and hugs himself tight. He stays in bed longer than usual, buried underneath a pile of blankets, and digs his nails into his skin in the hope that the pain will distract him from his need. It sadly doesn't.

He finally gets up when his stomach starts to rumble and heads down to the kitchen in his sleeping clothes and with his softest blanket spread over his shoulders. He finds Vesemir and Jaskier in the kitchen, and the bard immediately lets out a surprised sound when he catches his scent. Vesemir fortunately holds him back and motions for Lambert to take a seat. 

"Do you not want a hug ?", Jaskier asks sounding completely puzzled.

"No," Lambert grunts even as he has to concentrate not to lean towards Vesemir as the old Wolf deposits toats and tea in front of him.

"Right," Jaskier agrees sarcastically, "I don't understand why you won't allow us to help though, you'd feel infinitely better with just a hug."

"I don't need a hug, or a caress, or to be coddled, or anything," Lambert snarls at Jaskier.

Fuck, he hates his body. He just want to be left in peace and instead he's yearning about touch like a touch-starved idiot. 

"Jaskier," Vesemir intervenes before the bard can open his mouth again, "Would you mind collecting the chicken's eggs ?"

"Not at all, Vesemir," Jaskier says and finally leaves, but not before looking back one last time in puzzlement at Lambert.

"Eat," Vesemir orders him.

Lambert nods and devours his breakfast. He concentrates on the food and not on the warn body standing a few feet away from him. He's used to ignore the itch though, and knows that he can at least hold on another day before he becomes so needy he won't be able to stay away from the others.

And he knows that they would help him if he were to ask, but he hates being subjugated by his nature so much that he prefers to fight it until he can't anymore. 

"Are you coming to dinner or do you want us to send someone up with food ?", Vesemir asks him as he leaves to go back to bed.

"Send Eskel."

Vesemir nods and shoos him away looking sad. Lambert's morning is rather miserable. He doesn't manage to nap, paces his room and generally longs for a hot body at his side. When Eskel knocks at midday, Lambert checks that Jaskier is nowhere to be seen before he lets him in.

"Fuck, you're a mess," Eskel sighs when he sees him.

And his brother then proceeds to throw him the most pitiful look ever and Lambert begrudgingly allows him to hug him. He melts against Eskel's chest and even as his body relaxes, his mind screams at him to stop being so needy and vulnerable. Tears of frustration escape his eyes and he unceremoniously throws Eskel out of his room.

He holds on for another few hours before he's so restless that he needs to move. He takes the dirty dishes downstairs, is glad to find the kitchen empty and heads to the hot springs afterwards. He knows that the hot water will be able to help him relax for a few hours, before he'll probably commandeer one of his brothers' lap for supper. He knows that he's almost reaching his limit and he's just about ready to fling himself at the first person he'll see.

He stops before entering the hot springs though, when he hears Geralt and Jaskier softly speaking inside.

“I just don't understand him, Geralt,” Jaskier is saying, “Why does he insist on being miserable ? We could help him !”

“Leave it, Jaskier,” Geralt sighs.

“I just... I _can't_. It physically pains me to see him like that. I know that a heat or a rut can be seen as a chore, but I've never seen someone so determined to make it a horrible experience than him”.

“Fuck, Jaskier, it's complicated, alright ?”

“It wasn't exactly smooth sailing for us either,” Eskel speaks up, “There's stuff Geralt and I had to work through first before we could be together again. It took us a few years. And Lambert hasn't yet. And pushing him won't help either, he might even shut all of us out instead, so please, just respect his wishes.”

“I'm sorry,” Jaskier mumbles, “I don't want to send him running away, it's just so frustrating watching him denying himself what he clearly wants.”

“I know,” Eskel sighs, “But we may not be the best persons to help him through his shit either, did you even think about that ?”

Jaskier makes a small contemplative sound and then Lambert hears someone moving in the water and they all fall silent again. He glares at the hot springs' door for a while and finally decides to enter anyway, the company be damned. He undresses quickly, chooses another pool than the one being occupied and lets out a small moan of pleasure as the hot water soothes his muscles. He dives underwater a few times, stretches and then settles on the bench carved into the side of the pool.

“What ?”, he grunts after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.

“Nothing,” Jaskier squeaks from Eskel's lap where he's sitting, “Just... Ouch, you don't need to pinch me ! Nothing.”

Lambert hums and closes his eyes. He contentedly dozes in the hot water but quick hushed whispers coming from the other pool distract him. He groans, rises and jumps into the next pool.

“You're a fucking nightmare,” Lambert growls at Jaskier and slaps his hand away from his body, “Don't touch me.”

He then scowls at Eskel and Jaskier and stands in front of Geralt who rolls his eyes at him and opens his arms. He looks at his brother and has to force himself to take the first step forward. The first step is the easiest for his body and the hardest for his mind, and a small relieved whimper escapes him as he settles in Geralt's lap.

“I hate it,” Lambert whispers as his brother hugs him.

“I know,” Geralt murmurs back and starts to softly scratch his head.

Lambert finally catches the nap that eluded him all morning and grumbles when Geralt pokes him awake. They dress in silence, Lambert stubbornly ignoring the fact that he spent a few hours sleeping in his brother's arms and they all troop back up for supper.

Lambert sits alone over their meal, because he feels like he already overindulged during the afternoon, and heads up to bed as soon as his plate is empty. He lays still under his pile of blankets as his body betrays him again as he feels the need to be touched come back. He groans, curses, tosses and turns and finally falls asleep several hours later.

He feels worse the next morning, the itch still there and encouraging him to get up and to seek a warm body with which to cuddle. He gets up angry with himself and actually curses out loud when he finds out that he is slowly starting to leak slick. He snarls as he perfunctorily washes himself and gets his oldest clothes, the ones he won't mind staining, out of his wardrobe.

His brothers take one look at his fuming face when he comes down to breakfast and immediately scamper off dragging Jaskier with them. Vesemir hands him a plate and a mug and offers him his hand as he approaches. Lambert wants to refuse it, but he also wants to eat his damn breakfast without feeling the urge to volt over the table to hug his mentor, so he takes the proffered hand, tugs and places it firmly on his back under his shirt.

Vesemir sighs and starts to rub his back, up and down, and Lambert relaxes over his meal. Once he's done, he stalks out of the kitchen and runs into Jaskier who's pacing in the hallway. The other omega narrows his eyes at him and slowly takes a step back.

“What do you want ?”, Lambert hisses.

“Feel free to punch me if I'm overstepping here, but I'd just really like to help. I know how uncomfortable you must feel and just... please, come with me to the library, we'll cuddle in front of the fire and I'll even stay quiet. Just. _Please_.”

He wants – oh, how he wants – to accept Jaskier's offer but it would mean giving up too easily for his taste. He's not ready to cede all control over his body yet and he can live with the itch for a few more hours. He had already gone through full heats without any contact at all, and it hadn't been fun, but he had emerged from them fucking proud of himself. He's not going to give in during pre-heat only to feel bad about it later on.

“This afternoon,” Lambert grunts.

“I'll hold you to it,” Jaskier yells after him as Lambert hurries back to his room.

And indeed after dinner, Jaskier drags Lambert to the library, with Geralt and Eskel hovering nearby, and shows him a pile of rugs and blankets just waiting for them in front of the fire. Lambert still hesitates but he feels tired and he really really wants to be touched so he warily sits down on the rugs and puts a blanket over his shoulders.

“Wipe that fucking smile off your face,” he snarls at Jaskier and the bard hastens to comply.

“Can I join you ?”, Jaskier then asks him with a straight face, “Or do you want Geralt or Eskel instead ?”

“You'll do fine,” Lambert sighs and opens his arms to the young man who happily burrows into his chest.

Lambert lies down and lets Jaskier sprawl over him. His hands soon end up under his shirt over his chest and to his utter mortification, he lets out a pleased moan. He feels Jaskier grin against the side of his neck and he forcefully tugs a blanket over their bodies.

“If you even think about touching my nipples or my prick, I'm breaking your fingers one by one,” Lambert threatens in a growl.

“Okay,” Jaskier whispers and lets his hands rest safely over his ribs.

Lambert then closes his eyes, hears Eskel and Geralt sit down together nearby and Vesemir joins them too after a moment. He dozes contentedly next to the fire, allows Jaskier to stroke his sides after a while and smiles when Vesemir starts to quizz his brothers about monsters' features.

He manages to stay still for a few hours before he needs something to do. He urges Jaskier up and asks for a book – Geralt, the asshole, hands him erotica before switching it for a stupid novel Eskel brought back a few years ago.

Jaskier abandons him for his lute soon enough and Geralt offers to take his place when Lambert lets out a pathetic whine at the loss of contact. He nods at his brother, settles with his back against Geralt's chest and starts to read while Jaskier softly strums his lute in the background. It's peaceful.

He manages to keep a hold on his itch until supper. Until now he only wanted to be touched, but as supper comes to an end, Lambert finds himself worrying Eskel's skin over his clavicule between his teeth and he starts to grind his ass back on his brother's crotch.

He barely notices Vesemir grunting at them to leave his damn kitchen before Eskel scoops him up and carries him to his room, Geralt and Jaskier following them. His brother gently lowers him onto the bed and Lambert whines when he steps away. He feels hot, he's steadily leaking slick by now and he just yearns for someone to fucking touch him already. Eskel quickly undresses him and makes him drink a glass of water before forcing him to focus his attention on him.

“Lambert, Lambert,” Eskel gently whispers and places both of his hands on Lambert's cheeks, “I need you to make an effort for a bit. Do you want someone to stay with you tonight ?”

“Yes,” he sighs and turns his head to lick at Eskel's hands, “Stay ?”

“Of course,” Eskel agrees easily, “Do you want Geralt and Jaskier to stay too ?”

Lambert's blood runs cold at the mention of Jaskier and he rolls to escape Eskel's hold. He fists his hands into his blankets, whimpers in discomfort and internally curses himself. He's usually much more composed on his pre-heat and manages to spend the night alone without becoming pathetically needy. He doesn't know why it's so hard to send Eskel away now.

“Not Jaskier,” Lambert whispers, because he doesn't feel comfortable with an almost stranger witnessing him losing his composure during heat, “Not Jaskier. Geralt can do as he wants.”

He vaguely notes that Geralt and Jaskier both leave and Eskel settles on the bed next to him. He's naked but not touching him and Lambert shivers at his side. He so wants to roll around, to sprawl himself over Eskel's body and sink onto his cock, his mind is the only thing keeping him from humiliating himself further.

“I can hold you,” Eskel murmurs at his side, “Or get you off. Just, please, don't force yourself to be miserable.”

Lambert holds on for maybe another hour before the need becomes overwhelming and he plasters himself against Eskel. He places his head on his chest, his hands grip his hips and he ruts against Eskel's leg.

“Get me off,” Lambert asks him even as he closes his eyes in shame.

“Okay,” Eskel agrees, “Fingers ? Cock ? Your ass, your cunt or your prick ?”

“Your fingers in my cunt,” Lambert miserably whispers and moans as he feels the first press of Eskel's fingers against his wet entrance.

His brother doesn't utter a word, just caresses him for a few seconds, before he slips two fingers into his cunt. Lambert moans, rubs his leaking cock over Eskel's leg and squeezes around the fingers massaging him so gently. It doesn't take long for Lambert's orgasm to arise and he lets the pleasure soothe the itch.

Eskel takes his fingers out, wipes them on the sheets and tugs Lambert up the bed so that he's resting against his body. The alpha puts an arm around his shoulders, kisses his temple and tells him to go to sleep. For once Lambert obeys without making a fuss, he knows that he needs the rest to get ready for the three exhausting incoming days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!  
> See you soon!


	6. Chapter 6

When Lambert wakes up the next morning, the first thing he does is to poke Eskel awake. He waits for his permission to put his mouth over Eskel's cock and when he's finally coaxed him into hardness, he sinks down on his prick with a pleasured moan. Eskel puts his hands over Lambert's waist, raises his hips as he rocks above him and they slowly chase their orgasms together.

As soon as they're done, there's a knock on the door and Geralt asks him if he and Jaskier can come in. Lambert asks for Geralt but tells the alpha to keep the other omega out of the room. He doesn't get an answer, but Geralt enters alone with two platters of food that have Lambert salivating.

They eat quickly before Lambert pushes the dirty dishes away and climbs atop Geralt.

“Can I ?”, he asks him because he's still coherent enough to ask for consent and remembers that Eskel has said yes but Geralt hasn't agreed to anything yet.

“Of course,” Geralt nods, “Take what you need.”

Lambert moans at that, kisses him and sinks down on Geralt's prick. He rides him hard and fast and asks Geralt to prevent his orgasm even as the alpha comes into his cunt. Lambert whimpers at the feeling, scrambles off Geralt to sprawl in the middle of his bed and beckons Eskel closer. Only after the other alpha has come too, does he allow himself his own orgasm.

His morning is spent like that, taking what he craves from his brothers. He makes Geralt get up at midday to fetch dinner and allows Eskel to feed him. But when Eskel asks him what he wants in the afternoon, Lambert feels the panic come back and he pushes the two alphas away. He spends an hour curled into a tight ball at the foot of bed, before he manages to ask Geralt for his cock again.

He cries then during the next few rounds, because he doesn't want to be in heat, doesn't want to force his brothers to attend to his needs, doesn't want to feel this fucking needy even as his body is flush from the pleasure Eskel and Geralt are giving him. His sorrow turns to anger as the afternoon progresses and the alphas find nothing better to do than to try to comfort him.

He tries to turn them away again, holds on to his decision for five minutes before he's crawling back into Eskel's lap and sinks down onto the alpha's prick with a snarl on his face just fucking daring him to comment. Eskel thankfully keeps his mouth shut and Geralt follows his lead.

So by the time Jaskier brings supper up, Lambert is completely exhausted, be it emotionally or physically. And when he sees Geralt's puppy dog's face when he asks him if his lover may enter with food, Lambert lets out a sigh, tugs one of the blankets over his naked body and nods. He tenses when Jaskier enters but the man just smiles at him.

Geralt and Eskel go to greet him, kiss him and Lambert averts his eyes, painfully reminded that they share something Lambert doesn't and he suddenly feels bad about keeping Jaskier's lovers away from him. He desperatly wants to send the three of them away, but he can't make himself utter the words and offers for the bard to stay for supper with them.

Jaskier beams at him, and Geralt and Eskel softly smile at him while Lambert grits his teeth at the discomfort he's trying to hide at having an almost stranger in his room during his heat, and nods and sits up in bed. Geralt comes to sit next to him and Jaskier takes the sole chair of the room while Eskel settles on the floor, his back against the bard' legs.

Eskel, Geralt and Jaskier softly chat together and Lambert just tries to concentrate on his plate instead of on his empty cunt and his shivering body who is starting to crave touch again. He feels the uncontrollable need build up slowly and knows that he'll soon enter the part of his heat where he'll lose all of his senses and end up as a needy mess who won't remember what will happen in the next day.

He orders Jaskier to step out again, even before they can enjoy their desserts but he needs and needs and needs and doesn't want the other omega to see him in this state. He tugs Geralt over him as soon as the door closes behind Jaskier, pushes his face to his chest and arches his back as his brother's lips close around a nipple. He moans and whimpers and a soft _please_ painfully escapes him. Geralt winces over him, he knows how Lambert hates to beg, and he enters him without further prompting.

Lambert manages to coax his brothers into four more rounds of sex, before he collapses exhausted on the bed. He feels wrecked and just knows that once he'll close his eyes, he'll fall straight asleep, and won't get his sense back before a day. Geralt and Eskel seem to be aware of that fact too and look at him with concern in their eyes.

“Like usual for tomorrow ?”, Eskel softly asks him.

“Yes,” Lambert nods and swallows, “I'm sorry.”

“For what ?”, Geralt asks from behind him.

“For taking you away from Jaskier.”

“You're not taking us away from him,” Eskel sighs, “He understands.”

“Still, I'm sorry.”

Geralt and Eskel share a look over his body and hum, and Eskel craddles him against his chest. Lambert sighs and fists the sheets between his hands, he doesn't want to close his eyes. Despite the fact that they have rules and that they know what he likes and don't, Lambert still feels dread at the idea of losing his mind to the need, he knows that he would literally agree to anything were they to ask him for it. Geralt gently pries the sheets free from his fingers and places his hands over Eskel's chest.

“Close your eyes, Lambert,” Geralt's deep voice rumbles, “We've got you, we'll take care of you.”

And Lambert obeys.

When he comes back to his senses a full day later, he's lying down on a firm chest, his throat and his cunt feel well-used and a bit sore, and he decides to keep his eyes closed for a moment longer. He can take a few minutes to slowly come back to himself instead of jumping straight into his last day of heat. Geralt and Eskel definitely took great care of him and the itch he feels since the beginning of his pre-heat is gone for now.

He takes a deep breath, smells his heat scent over his brothers' faint ones and scrunches up his nose in distate. He then carefully flexes his feet, moans contentedly and rubs his cheek over the chest under him. He feels a hand settle on his back and start to stroke it slowly and someone chuckles nearby.

“He's sweet like that, isn't he ?”, Jaskier's voice cuts through the remaining fog in his mind.

Lambert violently flinches, opens his eyes, rolls over Eskel to look behind him and finds Jaskier sitting next to Geralt on the bed. His blood runs cold and he quickly rises clutching a blanket trying to cover himself.

“What is he doing here ?”, Lambert snarls at the three men occupying his bed.

“Oh, crap,” Jaskier whispers as he gets up, collects his boots, because of course he made himself comfortable, and runs for the door.

“Lambert, calm down,” Geralt whispers in what is probably meant as a soothing tone but only manages to upset him more, “It isn't what it looks like.”

“And what is it supposed to look like ?”, Lambert asks hysterically, “How long has he been here watching me mindlessly begging for one of your cocks to fill me ? How long did you let him watch ? Did you enjoy having him near ? Did you imagine I was him ? Better yet, did you let me beg _him_ for his cock too ? Did you let him touch me ?”

“Lambert,” Eskel sharply says, “Just calm the fuck down.”

“I fucking trusted you,” Lambert yells as Geralt warily approaches him.

“We didn't let him touch you, he just brought breakfast,” Geralt explains and points at the bedside table which is indeed bearing one untouched and two almost empty food platters, “And you were still out, sleeping not... not anything else, and I invited him to stay for breakfast.”

“And did you invite him to stay last night at supper too ? And yesterday at dinner ? Did you let him settle comfortably on the bed and comment on my performance while you had me on my knees ? _Oh, he can be sweet when his mouth is full, too bad he doesn't let you do it more often._ ”

“Lambert, you're panicking,” Eskel points out sensibly, “And you know that we wouldn't do that to you. Just try to think rationally about it, please.”

“He was in my bed !”, Lambert shouts.

“ _On_ your bed, because it was more comfortable,” Geralts corrects, “And that was a mistake. I'm _sorry_.”

Lambert snorts and fixedly stares at the food platter left for him. He takes a few steps back until his back hits the wall and he lets himself drop to his knees. They're probably telling the truth, deep down he knows that they wouldn't do that to him, but they still betrayed his trust and Lambert has no way of knowing what Jaskier saw or did or said exactly.

And he's aware that he invited the bard to come in two days ago for supper, but he had offered him the chair and hadn't invited him into his bed. The gesture had a meaning Lambert hadn't been ready to contemplate. He just doesn't understand why any of them thought that it had been a good idea to let him stay while he had been out.

He's lost in his thoughts, trying to keep the panic at bay and calm himself down, and doesn't keep track of his brothers. So he's surprised to find the both of them kneeling at his side and reaching for him. Lambert snarls and slaps their hands away, he doesn't want their touch.

“Lambert,” Eskel whispers, “We're sorry, it won't happen again. Please, come back to bed.”

“Don't touch me,” Lambert miserably whimpers and hugs himself, “Don't touch me.”

“Lambert,” Geralt murmurs, “Please.”

“Get lost,” Lambert snaps, “Just leave me alone.”

“You don't mean that,” Eskel says, “You still have a day of heat to go through.”

“It won't be the first heat I spend alone,” Lambert snarls, “Get the fuck out of my room, I don't want to see you anymore !”

“Lambert,” Geralt begs him.

“What do you not understand ?”, Lambert snarls, well and truly angered now, “Get lost !”

“Come on, Geralt,” Eskel whispers with a dejected sad frown on his face, “We're only making things worse.”

Eskel tugs Geralt back to his feet and they collect their belongings, glancing at Lambert from time to time. They finally head out after a few minutes and Eskel sticks his head into his room before closing the door behind him.

“At least eat something, Lambert,” he tells him, “And yell if you need us, we'll come.”

Lambert sneers at him, gets up once he's alone and locks the door behind his brothers. He then goes back to bed, throws the pillow Jaskier had been leaning on away, and eats. He feels numb, completely disconnected and so out of it that it doesn't even bother him to be alone for now. The itch starts to come back once he's done with the food and Lambert gets his chains out of his wardrobe.

He looks at them desperatly and almost runs out of the room to call Geralt and Eskel back. But he doesn't want to see them, doesn't _need_ them and is firmly set on spending the last day of his heat alone. So he puts one shackle around his left wrist and locks the other onto one of the bed's posts. The chain between the shackles lets him enough room to move freely, but he won't be able to wander out in search of company even if the need becomes unbearable.

To say that Lambert's last day of heat is miserable is an understatement. He spends it chained to his bed, whimpering and moaning in need and pleasuring himself until he feels sick of it. He's also hungry because he refuses to open the door for anyone and when he finally lets sleep claim him at the end of the day, he has tears running down his cheeks.

The next morning isn't really better. He's stiff all over and needs two tries to manage to get the damn shackles open. He's hungry, thirsty, reeking and in desperate need of a hug, and he snarls even as he dresses, disgusted by his own weakness. He opens his window to air the room, violently strips the bed of its sheets and blankets and heads down to the laundry room to dump everything there.

He then decides to soak into the hot springs for a while but even the hot water doesn't manage to soothe his tense muscles. He goes up to the kitchen still feeling frustrated with himself, and is greeted by four pairs of eyes slowly blinking at him as he enters. He doesn't bother issuing a greeting, doesn't even know what he wants to say to them, and takes his seat at the table in silence.

Vesemir hands him a plate full of toast, scrambled eggs, bacon and bread and Lambert scarfs everything down in a few seconds. He's then handed a mug of tea and hesitates to ask for seconds. They don't usually have a second helping, but his stomach is still rumbling and it would be a nice distraction from the three morons staring at him.

Vesemir must spot his hesitation though, because he fills his plate again without being prompted and hands it to him without a word. Lambert catches his arm as he withdraws it and blushes in shame at his fit of uncontrolled need. Jaskier lets out a small dismayed sound on the other side of the table and Lambert slowly and painfully pries his fingers away from Vesemir's wrist.

“Get lost,” Vesemir growls at Eskel, Geralt and Jaskier.

The three idiots hasten to comply and Lambert feels like Vesemir is angry with them. He lets out a small relieved sigh once they disappear and his mentor sits down next to him. He offers him his hand again and Lambert grabs it roughly with a sound of longing escaping him. He blushes again, but still guides Vesemir's hand to his back. The old Wolf nods, starts to gently rub his back, and Lambert grits his teeth to prevent other humiliating sounds escaping him as his body finally relaxes.

They stay like that for what feels like hours before Lambert gets up and heads back up to his room. He stays locked up until dinner, goes back down to eat, ignores his brothers and their bard's mournful looks and commandeers Vesemir's hand at the end of the meal to rub his back. He ends up sobbing over the kitchen's table as his body betrays him again and he starts to whimper in relief at finally being touched. Vesemir doesn't comment.

Supper goes the same and Lambert then goes down to the springs to enjoy the hot water for a while before going back up to bed. The last few weeks of winter follow the same pattern, Lambert ignores and avoids his brothers and their bard, barely acknowledges Jaskier when the man seeks him out to apologize to him and spends his evenings either in his room or at Vesemir's side reading or mending clothes or sharpening blades or playing dice.

He never knew that the old man could feel so reassuring, his presence grounding Lambert. But he finds out that what had felt like a chore at the beginning of the winter, now brings him peace. He's a bit unsettled by the change in his routine though and longs to go back to the Path. He'll need the year to come to process what happened properly and decide what he wants to do about it.

So when Vesemir deems the trail down the moutain practicable, if still slightly snowed in, Lambert announces at supper that he's leaving the next morning. Vesemir nods resigned as his brothers try to convince him to stay a week or two more. Lambert shakes his head, because he made up his mind, and he won't ask them to leave early instead with a human in tow who'd probably have trouble making it back down. He's not that much of an asshole as to wish Jaskier's death and his brothers' misery.

When Lambert gets down to the kitchen in the morning, everyone is already up and waiting for him. They share one last uncomfortable breakfast together and Vesemir is the only one he offers a hug to before stepping out into the cold air. He saddles his horse alone, arranges his packs on the mare's back and finally heads out towards the gates. But before he can leave, he hears Geralt calling him and his brother comes trotting towards him.

“What do you want now ?”, Lambert tiredly sighs at him.

“I'm sorry,” Geralt mumbles, “I just... Fuck... Please come back next year ? I swear we'll stay out of your way if that is what you want, but Kaer Morhen is your home too and it wouldn't sit well with me knowing you'd be alone out there and we'd be enjoying the keep's warmth.”

“What the fuck gave you the idea that I wouldn't come back ?”

“Vesemir fears it.”

“Fuck,” Lambert curses and closes his eyes, “I don't know what I'll do yet. I need time to process everything.”

“I understand,” Geralt nods, “But know that you'll _always_ be welcome here.”

Lambert hums.

“Are you bringing Jaskier back next year ?”, Lambert asks him.

Geralt swallows and looks away.

“I don't know,” he whispers, “Vesemir made it clear that if you didn't want to see Jaskier again, then he wasn't welcome into the keep anymore. So I guess that it's up to you.”

“What will you do if I tell you to keep him away ?”, Lambert wonders.

“I don't know,” Geralt whispers again, “I'll maybe spend the winter with him in Oxenfurt or Novigrad.”

“Without Eskel ?”

“With Eskel,” Geralt contradicts and Lambert snorts unhappily, of course they would ditch him and Vesemir for the bard, of course.

“Bring him then,” Lambert snaps bitterly, “Far be it from me to forbid you to come home.”

“Lambert,” Geralt sighs.

He extends his hand towards his shoulder to squeeze and Lambert deftly sidesteps him.

“Don't worry. I've got a friend who can house me if I decide not to come back. I'll try to send word though.”

“A friend ?”, Geralt asks with furrowed brows, “You never mentioned a friend.”

“Like you ever mentioned the bard before bringing him to the keep.”

“Eskel knew.”

“Of course he knew,” Lambert sneers.

“And your friend, will he help you with your heat ?”, Geralt asks ignoring his snide remark.

“I don't think that my heat is any of your business anymore, Geralt,” Lambert rebukes him firmly.

“I'm sorry,” Geralt apologizes with a wince.

“Yeah, well, shit happens,” Lambert says with a shrug, “See you, Geralt.”

And Lambert crosses the gates and heads out of the keep without looking back. He really wants to believe that he'll come back next year, but he's really not sure about anything right now and doesn't want to make promises he won't be able to keep.


	7. Chapter 7

When Lambert reaches Aiden's house, really more of a one-room shack, in a secluded bog in south Kaedwen his friend had claimed as his years ago, he's estimating that he's two weeks early. Over the years the both of them took up the habit to reunit together at Aiden's in spring, but seeing as Lambert left Kaer Morhen earlier than usual, he arrives a bit before he's expected and he just hopes that Aiden is home.

He took his time coming south, but it apparently hasn't been enough. He stopped to take care of a noonwraith and some drowners on the way and visited a brothel to make sure that the latest heat mishap hadn't added new issues on top of his existing issues. Everything had gone well and Lambert had been so relieved that he had tipped the woman he had spent the night with really well.

So when Lambert finally catches sight of Aiden's patch of land, he dismounts and leads his horse on foot through the bog. He knows that there are a few drowners living around Aiden's house, that he keeps around to take care of trespassers, and Lambert indeed needs to send one on his way as he crosses the bog. He scowls, wounds the damn monster and lets it disappear back to its den.

He shakes his head at the sight and continues on. He lets out a relieved sigh when he reaches the dry land hosting Aiden's shack and leads his horse to the stables he helped build a few years ago. Aiden's horse is indeed stabled and Lambert greets her with a smile and a scratch between the ears.

Once his own horse is taken care of, he shoulders his pack and makes his way towards the small house hidden between pines and yews and swamp cypresses. He calls his friend's name once he reaches the small hut and frowns when no one answers him. He goes up to the door, knocks once and then twice, and tries the handle. The door is closed.

Lambert frowns at it, closes his eyes and lets his senses work. His nose detects a faint spicy scent he doesn't quite manage to identify and he picks up a small sound as he strains his hearing. He concentrates on it, forces his ears to focus and finally discerns some whimpers coming from inside. He swears, dumps his belongings on the floor and tries to break down the door.

It takes him three tries before the door is torn off its hinges and Lambert rushes inside. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to get used to the darkness – there's no window, Aiden really couldn't afford panes and had decided to do without – and his nose catches up to him first. The hut reeks of alpha in rut.

“Fuck, Aiden”, Lambert whispers as he takes a step forward.

His eyes are drawn to the bed pushed in one corner of the single room and Lambert swears again. Aiden is on the bed, left wrist chained to his right ankle and a gag in his mouth muffling his sounds. He's in rut, definitely on his second day by the way his eyes are glazed over, and he's leaning towards Lambert, muffled pleas begging him to join him.

Lambert turns his back on the scene, closes the door behing him as best as he can – it is slightly gaping but the repairs are going to have to wait – and heads out to the stables again. Aiden won't be able to follow him due to his restraints, even if the Cat wants to, and Lambert sure as hell is _not_ joining him when he's in no state to agree to his presence.

Aiden may well have pleaded with him to join him, but he would have been begging anybody to let him fuck them at this point. Just as Lambert would mindlessly beg anyone to let them fuck him on his second day of heat. And he refuses to take advantage of his friend's momentary weakness that way.

Lambert feels like Aiden must have anticipated his rut and chained himself so that he wouldn't wander in search of a willing body to satisfy his need. And he probably added the gag to keep himself quiet in case anyone – as farfetched as it seems – ever found his hut. Lambert plops down on the small supply of hay left in the stables and holds his head between his hands.

He had had no idea that Aiden was an alpha and he winces, feeling guilty for all the alphas-are-assholes-rants Lambert had subjected him to over the years. Aiden had never commented though, had even hummed and placatingly nodded along, and Lambert had then categorized him as a beta. A nice beta, who had gone from begrudging ally to acquaintance to friend and then to lover over some years.

Lambert sighs and wonders if he would have still allowed Aiden to bed him knowing that he was an alpha. There really is no way to distinguish a male beta from a male alpha, apart from the jewelry – if they are wearing some and Aiden isn't – and the alpha scent that accompanies each rut once a year, so Lambert had no way to know and the Cat never said anything.

He supposes that he would have eventually agreed to it anyway, because he _likes_ Aiden, whether he's a beta, an alpha or an omega. And it wouldn't have changed anything to their usual love-making, because there was no knot outside of rut anyway.

Lambert feels like it would just have taken them way longer than it did to end up in bed together. He still would have liked a heads up so as not to be blindsided by it one day, it was not as though Aiden didn't know that Lambert was an omega, his cunt was hard to miss after all.

He shakes his head, forces his thoughts away from Aiden's alphaness, it was his secondary gender and his body and he could do with it what he wanted, and gets up. He needs something to do though, something to occupy him, so he brushes Aiden's horse. When he's done he walks around the Cat's dry patch of land, checks that no one is nearby, grimaces at Catharina, the damn drowner Aiden named, when he spots her nearby and goes to the small stream to fill his waterskin.

He bemoans the fact that it's still too early into spring for him to find anything interesting to forage, he would have liked to present some fresh fruits to Aiden once he got his senses back. He then checks the shack from afar again, the door is still as Lambert left it with Aiden safely tucked inside the house, and he goes back to the stables when he's satisfied with his round.

He spends a restless night out, gets up to check the house several times, always from afar, never coming close for Aiden to see or even smell him, paces around the stables and tosses and turns on his bedroll because sleep sadly eludes him. He wakes up at dawn still tired, eats some dried meat and drinks water and decides to wait a bit before checking on Aiden again.

When he deems the sun high enough in the sky, he gets up and decidedly walks up to the house. Nothing has changed and he knocks on the door hoping that the Cat has regained his senses by now.

“Aiden ?”, he calls and actually waits for an answer before entering this time, “It's Lambert.”

“Lambert ?”, Aiden echoes him and he winces, he sounds hoarse, “What are you doing here ? You're early.”

“I know. I'm sorry. Can I come in ?”

“I'm in rut, Lambert.”

“I know.”

“Then why do you want to come in ? You hate being near rutting alphas !”

“I'll just go then,” Lambert says, “I'm staying in the stables, call if you need me.”

“I didn't say that you had to go,” Aiden says before he can leave and then whispers, “Fuck, I want you to come in, you don't even know how much I want you to join me. I just... I don't want to pressure you.”

Lambert swallows and mutters a silent _fuck_ at the door.

“If you want me to come in,” he says slowly and chooses his words with care after a few long minutes of contemplation, “I'm willing to help you through your last day of rut. We can speak about the specifics later, but I'm not coming in without your consent.”

“Please,” Aiden whispers after a few seconds of silence, “Come in.”

Lambert nods, even if nobody can see him, and pushes the door open. He has to squint his eyes in the darkness and the first thing he does is to light a candle. He leaves his swords on the table and slowly approaches Aiden who's still sprawled on the bed.

The Cat is naked and covered with a blanket but Lambert can see that he's hard underneath it. His eyes are clear though, even as his wrist is still shackled to his ankle, as if he were afraid to lose control, and Lambert approaches the bed warily. He deposits the candle on the bedside table and kneels on the floor.

“Hey,” he whispers, “I'm happy to see you.”

“And I you,” Aiden answers softly with a smile.

Aiden then lets out a small whine and inches his head towards Lambert. He stops when his brain catches up with his body and curls into himself, a miserable sound escaping him.

“Can I touch you ?”, Lambert asks.

“Please,” Aiden brokenly begs.

So Lambert gently raises his hand, burries his fingers into Aiden's long hair and gently scratches his head. Aiden lets out a small relieved whimper and leans into the caress. He kicks off the blanket and his free hand disappears between his thighs. Lambert keeps playing with his hair as Aiden gets himself off and presses a kiss agaisnt his cheek when he relaxes on the bed completely boneless after his release.

“Do you need water ? Something to eat ?”, Lambert asks.

“Do that again.”

“What ?”, Lambert asks, puzzled.

“The kiss, please. It felt nice.”

Lambert hums and kisses Aiden's cheek again. The Cat whines when Lambert backs off, and he peppers his face with kisses until Aiden moves and his lips find Lambert's. They kiss hurriedly for a few seconds, until Aiden's free hand grabs the one Lambert is still keeping at his side and guides it to his hard prick.

Lambert startles badly against Aiden's lips, but rallies quickly and strokes him hard and fast, stubbornly not thinking about the fact that Aiden is in rut and imagining that they're having sex like usual, until the Cat shouts his release.

Aiden's knot starts to swell immediately after his orgasm and Lambert keeps his hand around his prick hoping to help him stave off the need, even as his skin crawls at the feel of it. Aiden must sense his discomfort though, because he gently pries Lambert's fingers away from his cock and replaces them with his own.

“Where did you put the shackles' keys ?”, Lambert asks once he's sure his voice won't betray him by wavering.

“In the drawer of the bedside table,” Aiden explains, “There's a false bottom.”

Lambert nods and in his haste to reach the bedside table, he lets go of Aiden's hair. The Cat pathetically whines and Lambert puts his hand back over his head as he fumbles one-handed with the drawer. It takes him a minute to find the key and an other one to free Aiden who decides that curling around Lambert's arm is his new favorite pastime.

“Come on,” Lambert coaxes him softly, “Get up, you need to at least drink something.”

“I don't want to,” Aiden whines.

“You'll feel better after that. I promise not to let you go.”

“I want another handjob.”

“ _After_ you eat and drink.”

“But I'm hard now.”

“ _After_ ,” Lambert insists.

“Fine,” Aiden grumbles as he gets up.

After turns out to take a little bit of time to arrive. Lambert manages to make Aiden eat and drink, he then has the dubious honor of keeping hold of his shoulder as he gets out to take a leak and then convinces him that a quick wash will make him feel good. The wipe down, because Lambert doesn't even try to draw a bath, he knows that Aiden doesn't have the patience for it now, ends with Lambert on his knees bringing Aiden to climax.

“Fuck,” Lambert sighs as he gets back up, “My knees are creaking.”

“You're getting old,” Aiden says with a smile and proceeds to nuzzle his throat, “Come to bed ?”

Lambert tenses and closes his arms around Aiden's body trapping him against his chest. He feels his lover tense against him too.

“I'd like to,” Lambert whispers against Aiden's temple, “I'd really like to, but I don't think that I can take your knot.”

“I know,” Aiden murmurs, “And I'm not asking you too, but just hold me, please.”

“Okay,” Lambert agrees warily.

He loses his shirt and his boots in the next few seconds and Aiden tugs him to the bed impatiently. Lambert ends up sitting with his back to the headboard and with a very naked Aiden squirming in his lap. True to his words, Aiden doesn't ask for his cunt or his ass, doesn't even ask him to discard the pants and makes do with Lambert's hands.

It takes them half a day to sate Aiden's needs and Lambert has no doubt that another round of marathon sex is waiting for them in the evening. He lets out a sigh over Aiden's head and the Cat hums against his chest.

"It's nice sharing a rut," Aiden quietly whispers, "I like it when it's you."

"You say that like it's the first time you have someone to help you get through it," Lambert remarks with a frown.

"Because it is," Aiden confesses to his chest.

"Oh."

"When Stygga was still running, it was heavily frowned upon," Aiden explains, "And by that I mean forbidden."

"I got it," Lambert unhappily snorts.

"I was a late bloomer, thought that I was a beta at first, and then the pre-rut unexpectedly hit. The trainers dragged me to a secluded room and locked me in. I think that it was the worse rut I ever had."

"Spent my first heat alone too," Lambert offers in exchange, "I could have asked someone to help, but I didn't want to. I could still clearly remember what heat did to my mother and I didn't want anybody to see me like that. Come to think of it, I had far worse heats than that."

"And then there were stories about witchers going to brothels to pay someone to see them through a rut or a heat. And it was said that they never came back because people took advantage of them so I never... Well, I never tried it. Took suppressants to delay my rut until the beginning of spring instead of early autumn and here am I."

"They forced me to share my second heat. Took me years before I let anyone else in my bed during heat. And then Geralt and Eskel had to use their damn puppy dogs' eyes and a great deal of persuasion to get me to agree to it. And I still hate it, being so vulnerable, enslaved to some stupid biological needs."

"I'm sorry," Aiden whispers and presses a kiss to his nipple.

"I'm sorry too," Lambert murmurs back and kisses the top of Aiden's head.

The silence lasts for a few minutes before Aiden speaks up.

"So are we going to talk about why you're early this year ?"

"Let's talk about the fact that you're a damn alpha instead."

Aiden flinches against him but doesn't go away.

"I don't make a habit of divulging my secondary gender on first meetings. And then you proclaimed your hate of alphas to everyone who would listen, so I kept quiet."

"I don't hate alphas," Lambert grumbles.

"Your strong dislike then."

"I don't dislike you, or Geralt or Eskel for that matter."

"Well I wasn't going to take the chance, I really didn't want you to leave. And you're away for your heats, I spend my ruts alone, so it didn't matter anyway. I could play at being a beta."

"But you shouldn't have had to."

"Water under the bridge," Aiden waves his objection away, "So _why_ are you early ?"

"Shitty winter," Lambert mutters and burries his nose into Aiden's hair before raising his head back up, these need to be washed badly.

"What happened ?"

"Geralt brought a lover to the keep."

"Didn't you say that he and your other brother were together ?"

"Oh they are, they just added a third. He's an omega too. And he got a bit pushy on the subject of heat and my way of doing things."

"Shit."

"Found him in my bed with Geralt and Eskel when I came back to my senses after the second day."

" _Shit_ ," Aiden repeats and his left hand closes around Lambert's right and squeezes.

"Got mad, spent the last day of my heat alone and didn't speak to any of them for the rest of the winter."

"I'm sorry."

" _You_ have nothing to be sorry for."

Aiden hums.

"Why did you agree to spend the last day of my rut with me ?"

"Because you looked like you needed it."

"So you're just doing it as some sort of obligation ?"

"No," Lambert sighs, "It's not an offer I'd make to everyone. But you're _you_ and I'm _me_. You're my friend and my lover and I wanted to make it better for you. I just needed confirmation that you were interested in it first."

Aiden hums contentedly..

"Thanks for being here. I have to confess that I had a bit of a fright when I woke up and saw the door off its hinges."

"Sorry for that," Lambert winces, "I heard you whimpering and thought you were hurt."

"You're hopeless," Aiden grins at him, "But I like you that way, so don't change."

"If you say so," Lambert agrees.

"Lambert ?", Aiden asks again with a sheepish grin after a few minutes, "Can I have your mouth again ?"

"The things I do for you," Lambert mutters and lets out an exaggerated sigh.

He rolls over so that Aiden ends up on his back on the bed and starts by kissing Aiden first. The Cat soon tears his mouth away from his though and insistently pushes Lambert down his body. Lambert rolls his eyes but takes the hint and gets his mouth on Aiden's cock before the Cat can start to beg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a wild Aiden appears :p


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
> You get the chapter a bit early because I'm rather proud of myself, I'm finally entering the final stage of writing this story!!  
> You'll probably get 10 to 12 more chapters and I still have 2 to write!! Yeahhhh me!!!!
> 
> See you soon and good reading :D

Travelling with Aiden after the rut isn't actually weird. Lambert had feared that there would be some lingering awkwardness after everything was said and done, but nothing changes. They still head out together, separate when they're low on funds or need some space and reconvene after a few weeks.

Lambert still rants at Aiden about the stupid alphas he meets on his travels, and the Cat loyally continues to nod and hum at him. They still switch during sex, still get into bar brawls and still cheat at cards. And Aiden doesn't turn into an overbearing prick. The normalcy is oddly reassuring.

And two weeks after they leave Aiden's hut, they happen upon a small market. Aiden drags him to it, because he wants to buy some soap, and Lambert fortuitously passes by a jewelry stand. He spots omega's hairpins and earrings and necklaces and alpha's rings and torques and anklets, the kind you gift to your partner after a shared heat or rut.

He waves Aiden away, the Cat can go look at soap alone, and lingers in front of the stand. The man selling the wares frowns at him like he just can't quite believe someone would trust Lambert of all people with their heat or rut. He stays silent though and pushes some omega's necklaces forward.

Lambert shakes his head and asks to see the rings instead. The man looks at Lambert with disbelief clear on his face, and Lambert has half a mind to leave. But he really wants to get some jewelry for Aiden, because despite the fact that they didn't spend his whole rut together, the Cat still deserves something to remind him that he's valued and that Lambert was honoured by the trust he's shown him.

He's a bit disappointed in the rings though, nothing seems to catch his eye and he wants Aiden's first rut jewelry to be something perfect instead of plain. So he turns his gaze on the torques, which are more expensive but he's not going to be stingy now. He discards the silver ones quickly, they would clash with Aiden's brown skin, and contemplates buying a gold plated one.

The merchant seems to doubt his ability to pay though, and he's probably not entirely wrong, and gets out some torques made from copper and bronze. His gaze is immediately drawn to a slim shiny bronze torque. There are vines delicately carved onto it and it isn't completely closed and can be adjusted so Lambert is sure that it won't choke Aiden.

The merchant hands it to him and Lambert examines it carefully. It seems old but is in fairly good shape. The torque is clean, the carvings are clearly visible and the metal is sturdy. He can already picture it shining around Aiden's neck. Lambert knows that he wants it, will probably buy it whatever the price, but he still haggles fiercely with the merchant.

He questions the torque's age, its cleanliness, rants about imaginary scratches and implies that it'll probably break in a few months. The merchant gets more and more agitated and a crowd soon forms around them. When Lambert starts on the poor metal work for the third time and someone in the crowd backs him up, the merchant finally relents and decides to sell it for a fairly reasonable price. Lambert hurries to accept the deal and pays the man quickly.

He grabs the torque carefully when the man hands it to him, wraps it into one of his shirts and sticks it into one of his saddlebags, he'll gift it to Aiden in the evening. He goes in search of the Cat once he's done and finds him dithering at a soap stand. Lambert tells him to buy the pine scented soap like they usually do, Aiden grumbles and takes a lavender on instead, and they leave the market behind them after that.

The evening find them camping around a fire in a secluded clearing and Lambert waits until they're done with supper to get his gift out. He brings it back to Aiden hesitantly and shoves it at him before his nerves make him take it back. He just hopes that Aiden will like it.

“For me ?”, Aiden asks with a pleased grin.

“No, for your horse,” Lambert grunts, “Of course it's for you, moron.”

“That's too bad, I'm sure Thunder would have liked your old shirt.”

“Shut up and look inside already,” Lambert grouches.

Aiden smiles, sets the folded shirt on his thighs and unwraps the damn thing so slowly Lambert is tempted to do it for him. He grumpily settles next to him though, because Aiden deserves to take his time with it if he wants to, and waits with batted breath for his gift to be revealed.

“Oh, you got me a torque,” Aiden whispers when he's done unwrapping the shirt.

Lambert nods.

“Do you like it ?”

“It's alpha jewelry, right ?”, Aiden asks as he strokes the torque, “As in jewelry you give to your partner after a rut, right ?”

“Yes,” Lambert answers drily, “I don't want to overstep though. You can throw it away if you don't like it.”

“I've never seen a witcher wearing such things.”

“I've seen a few,” Lambert comments, “Some of the oldest Wolves who had steady partners, they used to exchange gifts.”

“But for me ? We didn't even spend my whole rut together !”

“You still deserve it,” Lambert says firmly, “And you'll deserve another piece if you ever agree to let me share your rut again, and another after that and another after that and so on.”

“You're sharing your heats though, and you're not wearing any,” Aiden idly remarks and Lambert winces.

“Forget about me,” Lambert growls because he doesn't like being reminded that _he_ wasn't worth a piece of stupid jewelry and Jaskier, after only three heats, is.

“Okay,” Aiden says dubiously like he knows that there is something bothering Lambert, “Put it on for me ?”

“So you like it ?”, Lambert asks as he gets up and steps behind Aiden to settle the torque around his neck.

“I love it,” Aiden whispers as he strokes the metal with a reverent hand, “I'm glad you got it for me.”

Lambert nods dumbly, admires the way the torque shines around Aiden's neck and steps in front of him. He goes on his knees between Aiden's spread legs, cups his cheeks between his hands and draws him in a kiss. He soon finds out that Aiden looks particularly stunning naked with just his torque adorning his body and does his best to show his dedicated appreciation all through the evening.

And at the end of the year, they end up back where everything started, at Aiden's house. The building is still standing and they only have to oust a few pests from it when they arrive. Lambert then helps Aiden to get everything ready for the winter, he chops wood, smokes meat, kills just enough drowners to keep their population in check and repairs the stables' roof.

And as the time for him to leave to head north to Kaer Morhen arrives, he finds himself stupidly lingering at Aiden's, completely unable to make up his mind about what he ought to do. A part of him wants to stay with the Cat, to spend a long winter sharing one bed at the fireside, and another part of him longs for the safety of the Wolves' keep.

"So are you staying for the winter ?", Aiden asks him one evening over supper, "Because you're usually gone by now."

"I don't know," Lambert grunts back.

"Well, you better make up your mind then, you won't be able to go up that moutain of yours if you linger for much longer."

Lambert unhelpfully grunts again and refuses to think about what Aiden just said. His avoidance tactic works for a day before he feels compelled to think about it. He has to concede that Aiden is right, he'll need to leave soon if he wants to be able to reach Kaer Morhen before the snow closes the passes. The problem is that he's not sure that he wants to go there, to see his brothers and Jaskier again, he can already feel the headache this winter will turn into.

On the other hand, he really wants to be able to get back to the safety the keep offers and he had some ideas about brewing that he wants to try too. Moreover he had promised to send word were he to stay at Aiden's, which it is clearly too late to do now. That is finally what decides him to go, he feels like his brothers and Vesemir are probably already worried enough about him and he doesn't want to add more to it.

So he wakes up at dawn on the next day, untangles himself from Aiden and bravely resists the urge to go back to bed. Aiden grumbles but gets up too and accompanies him to the stables. He watches him saddle his horse with a bittersweet smile and catches his arm before he can disappear into the bog to draw him into a kiss.

"Don't start now," Lambert whines, "I actually need to leave, you know."

"You wouldn't be in a hurry now if you hadn't waited so long."

"It didn't seem to bother you."

"It didn't," Aiden confirms, "I just wanted to tell you that I would welcome you back into my bed for my rut if you happened to be early again."

"You sure ?", Lambert checks with a small frown.

"Certain," Aiden confirms, "But don't feel forced to do it if you don't want to, alright ? Just, think about it. Maybe."

Lambert nods and draws Aiden into another kiss because he doesn't know what to say to him. He leaves after that and crosses the bog to join dry land. He then turns his horse north towards Kaer Mohren.


	9. Chapter 9

Lambert travels slowly, despite the fact that he should hurry, because he apparently isn't so keen to return to the keep as he previously thought. His tardiness forces him to spend his last day of travel in the snow and he grumbles to himself all the way up to the keep.

When he finally reaches the gates, he is surprised to find a huddled shape waiting for him there. He frowns at Eskel when his brother shakes himself to welcome him and Lambert gingerly allows him to hug him. Eskel trails after him to the stables, actually helps him settle his horse and insists to carry his packs inside.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing ?", Lambert growls at him as he follows him inside.

"I'm being helpful, Lambert," Eskel sighs at him and motions for him to go on to the kitchen while he takes his bags upstairs.

Lambert stares at Eskel's back for a few seconds before he shakes his head in disbelief and goes to the kitchen.

"Lambert !", Geralt greets him and he sounds so surprised that Lambert feels like his brother had thought that he wasn't coming back this year.

Lambert doesn't comment, he'll have ample time to get into a spat with Geralt during winter, and goes to greet Vesemir. The old Wolf actually hugs him, as does Geralt, and Jaskier awkwardly offers him his hand to shake. Eskel comes back by the time they're all sitting and Vesemir hurries to serve the stew he made.

"So how was your year ?", Geralt asks him when they're done and are slowly sipping some liquor.

"Fine," Lambert grunts back, "Nothing unusual."

"Did you meet up with your friend then ?"

"Geralt," Vesemir gently rebukes him and Lambert spots Jaskier pinching his brother's side.

"What friend ?", Lambert wonders and tries to remember if he ever spoke of Aiden or Coën to them.

"Forget it," Vesemir orders him and slaps the back of Geralt's head as he gets up.

Lambert has the distinct impression that something is bothering Geralt, something the others are aware of, but nobody seems to want to elaborate. Lambert shrugs and leaves them and their weird behaviour behind to go down to the hot springs. 

Geralt's weird behaviour persists in the next few weeks and Lambert catches him often enough trying to put something into words before closing his mouth abruptly when someone else walks into the room. He finally decides to ask Vesemir about it one evening when they're alone playing dice next to the kitchen's fire, while the three assholes abandoned them to probably go have sex.

"What is Geralt's problem ?", he grunts as Vesemir takes a sip of the experimental drink Lambert had to provide - vodka, white gull and plum juice, not bad - because he lost the last round.

"Nothing," Vesemir grumbles with a smile so fake Lambert rolls his eyes at him.

"Like I'm going to believe that one," Lambert sneers, "Spill, what's up ?"

"Oh, fine," the old Wolf sighs, abandons the dice and fills his glass again, "When we didn't see you coming before the snow came down, we all thought that you would stay away. And Geralt, Jaskier and Eskel started to feel guilty about the fact that you would have to spend the winter alone in some abandoned barn somewhere."

Lambert frowns at his drink.

"I wouldn't have been alone, I told him that I had a friend who could house me. And I don't give a shit about their guilt."

"Mmm, I'm not going to adress the guilt part, you four can work it out like responsible adults. The problem is that Geralt doesn't believe you when you say that you know someone who would welcome you for the winter."

"Really ?", Lambert asks, stunned.

"He thinks that you made it up so that he wouldn't feel bad if you decided to stay away."

"That's utter bullshit," Lambert growls, "I never sugarcoated anything, I'm not going to start now ! And I certainly didn't care about easing his mind last year when I left."

Vesemir hums at him and Lambert gulps his drink down before filling his glass up again.

"And what do _you_ think ?", Lambert aggressively asks.

"I don't know," Vesemir answers placatingly, "It's true that you never mentioned a friend before and that in itself makes me dubious of your affirmation. But as you said, you really didn't care about anyone's feelings when you left so I can't imagine why you would have lied to Geralt."

"Fuck you, just because I never told you about my friends doesn't mean that I don't have any."

"Plural now ?"

"I've got two, alright !", Lambert snarls, "Two witchers I met on the Path some years ago, Aiden and Coën. And before you can spew more nonsense, they appreciate me even when I'm an asshole !"

Vesemir hums noncommittaly at him and toasts him.

"To your friends then."

"To my friends," Lambert growls and races Vesemir to see who can finish his drink first.

Come morning, Lambert is poked awake by an amused looking Eskel. He grunts, belches and throws up over his brother's boots.

“Ew, Lambert !”, Eskel exclaims, disgusted.

“Shut up,” Vesemir grouches from his place where he's slumped nearby over the kitchen table.

Lambert turns back towards the table and lets his forehead drop against the cool wood, it feels nice. He doesn't remember much, just that Vesemir had wanted to know more about Aiden and Coën and Lambert had decided that if they were to have this conversation, he didn't want to do it sober. Vesemir had nodded and followed him.

“What the fuck happened here ?”, Geralt loudly asks as he comes in.

“Shut up,” Vesemir repeats, “And get me some tea.”

“Ugh, it stinks in here, what did you two do ?”, Jaskier finally asks as he appears.

“Shut up,” Lambert and Vesemir both groan together.

“Oh, whiny hung over witchers, fun,” Jaskier sarcastically says, “Eskel, darling, you might want to get out of the puddle of vomit.”

“Can't, I don't want to smear it all over the kitchen.”

Jaskier then proceeds to force Eskel out of his boots and badgers Geralt until his brother agrees to clean up Lambert's mess, because let's be honest he's in no shape to take care of it himself. Lambert watches the proceedings completely dumbfounded and wonders not for the first time why his brothers stupidly follow the bard's orders, he'll never understand them.

When Jaskier is satisfied with the floor's cleanliness, he pours Lambert and Vesemir a big mug of tea each, hands them some bland toasts and then starts to speak about dusting and sweeping and chopping wood, and Lambert shares a horrified look with the old Wolf and by mutual agreement they both decide to relocate to the library for a lazy day. Geralt, Eskel and Jaskier can pick up the slack for once.

Vesemir and Lambert hide into the library for the rest of the day, except for the quick dash to the kitchen at midday, and enjoy the idleness for once. And finally, at the end of the day, when Lambert knows that Geralt will be in the hot springs, he heads downstairs himself. He doesn't bother knocking on the spring's door, enters the room, quickly undresses and makes sure to splash his brothers and Jaskier as he joins them.

“I wanted to make some things clear,” he growls at them and glares, “I actually _do_ have friends. And they _would have_ let me stay with them for the winter.”

The three of them uncomfortably squirm in the water and avoid looking at him, and Lambert just knows that they fucking discussed it together.

“We're not saying you're lying,” Eskel tactfully explains, “But we are concerned.”

“You never told us about them,” Geralt bluntly states.

“Yeah, because my life doesn't actually revolve around you,” Lambert snaps back, “You never told me about Jaskier either.”

“It's not the same !”, Geralt exclaims.

“Why ?”, Lambert asks.

“Eskel knew,” Geralt petulantly says.

“I picked that up the first time you said it. I'm not stupid you know.”

“We know that,” Eskel intervenes, “Listen, we are just worried that you were trying to ease our guilty thoughts.”

“Did you _ever_ see me try to spare your damn feelings ?”

Eskel winces and Lambert feels like he just got his point across.

“You might have wanted to make a competition out of it,” Jaskier pipes up, “Tried to show us that you could have friends too and that we shouldn't feel bad about you.”

“Where the fuck does that reasoning come from ?”

“Jaskier has a point,” Geralt agrees with the bard, “And I just want you to know that you do not need to make up some imaginary friends just to avoid the hypothetical pity you wrongly feel might be coming.”

“You're actually insane,” Lambert mutters.

“We'd never pity you, Lambert,” Eskel whispers, “And we like you just as you are, you don't need to make up things for our benefits.”

“And you don't need to be alone either,” Jaskier says gently, “We can work something out between ourselves if you need companionship.”

“Fuck you,” Lambert angrily sneers at them and gets up, “ _Fuck. You._ I don't need _companionship_ and I certainly don't need you to offer me the leftovers from your relationship.”

“That's not what I meant,” Jaskier hurries to say.

“And just because _you_ think me so pathetic as to dream up my own friends doesn't mean that everyone else feels the same about me !”

“Lambert,” Eskel sighs, “We meant no disrespect.”

“Yeah, well, you can shove your _respect_ up your asses then,” Lambert sneers, “And I'll let you know that my friends are actual people and have names too. Aiden and Coën, if you were wondering.”

He turns his back on them, can't quite believe that they think him so pathetic as to completely make Aiden and Coën up, and puts his clothers back on his wet skin. He ignores the three men's pleas to come back and stalks up to his room in a huff. He screams in frustration in his pillow for a while and decides to skip supper, he doesn't think that he can face the three assholes without trying to punch them tonight.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good read :D
> 
> I'm almost done writing this story too :p I'm on the last chapter!!

To say that the days are uncomfortable after this confrontation is an understatement.Vesemir often shakes his head at them and Lambert stubbornly ignores his brothers and Jaskier and their damn pity. He's starting to regret not having stayed with Aiden when Eskel's rut hits and Lambert's mood sours even more.

His brother soon takes advantage of his pre-rut days to warily approach Lambert. He has such a hopeful look on his face that Lambert just can't refuse him and lets him burrow in his arms with a contented sigh. Geralt looks a bit constipated at the display of affection but lets them be.

They don't speak about Aiden or Coën again and Jaskier keeps his mouth shut about his imminent heat and Lambert's too. And when Eskel goes into proper rut, he and his two lovers disappear into his room and Lambert tries to make Vesemir go up to bring them food and drink instead of him. The old Wolf just shakes his head and orders him up with a stern face.

Lambert rants and grunts and mutters at the unfairness of it all but still makes all the trips necessary. He sees Jaskier once, when he's not quick enough to disappear back downstairs, and the bard looks properly disheveled. He seems content though and Lambert roughly shoves the platter of food at him. Jaskier smiles at him, thanks him and goes back inside.

When the three of them join him and Vesemir again, Eskel is fucking glowing and wearing a new ring and a damn anklet and Lambert makes a point of _not_ looking at the jewelry. Aiden's torque is more beautiful anyway and he certainly isn't jealous of his brother. 

Eskel then corners him on the last day of his post-rut and plops down into his lap in the library to nuzzle his throat. Lambert grumbles, sets his book down and gingerly wraps his arms around his brother's waist.

"Talk to me about your friends," Eskel asks him.

"Why do you want to talk about these so-called figments of my imagination now ?", Lambert asks him nastily.

"Don't be like that," Eskel whines, "Jaskier and Geralt may like to lose themselves into conjectures, they're such gossips, but I prefer to go to the source to make up my mind. So what are they like ?"

"They're witchers," Lambert warily says.

He waits for Eskel to scoff in disbelief and to tell him to stop spouting nonsense, but his brother only hums and places one of Lambert's hands on his ribs under his shirt.

"Go on," he tells him, "What are their names ?"

"Aiden and Coën," Lambert sighs, "But it's been two years since I've last seen Coën."

"And Aiden ?"

"We travel together for a while every year. I was with him before I came back to the keep."

"Is he the one with the house ?"

"It's not really a house, more of a hut in the middle of a bog. Doesn't even have windows, but it's warm and comfortable."

"Why did he settle in a bog ?", Eskel wonders.

"To keep people away. He has a few drowners around too. Even named one Catharina," Lambert explains with a small smile.

"Right," Eskel says dubiously, "And Coën, he got a house too ?"

"I don't think so, he goes south during winter usually, comes back _tanned_."

"He is a beta then, right ? He'd need a place to spend his heat or rut otherwise."

"I don't know," Lambert says with a frown, "I think that he is an omega but I never asked."

"Probably not an omega then," Eskel says and pats his arm gently, "You're shit at guessing other people secondary gender."

"That's not true," Lambert grumbles.

"Do you _not_ remember when you thought that Geralt was an omega ?"

"Hey ! Not my fault he gives off _these_ vibes !"

Eskel snorts against him.

"If you say so," Eskel grins, "So how did you meet them ?"

"I met Coën during a bar brawl, I was fighting and didn't see a man come up behind me. Then I hear this commotion and there's this other witcher standing over an unconscious man and grinning at me."

"I bet you and him hit it off immediately."

"Yeah. We travelled together for a bit, drank some bars dry, won a few fights, shared tips before we went on our way again. We try to catch each other up once every few years, I'll probably go looking for him in the summer."

"He seems nice," Eskel comments, "And Aiden ?"

"We met on a contract, I was paid to cure an ogre of its curse, he was paid to kill it."

"Oh, that sounds like a nightmare."

"It wasn't fun," Lambert agrees, "The ogre splattered my employer though and Aiden asked if I was interested in a team up to kill it. He promised to share the money with me and I just couldn't see a way to break that damn curse anyway so I agreed."

"How was it, fighting with an unknown witcher at your side ?"

"Weird," Lambert answers honestly, "I almost cut his arm off and we stumbled upon each other a few times. But we're better now, much more coordinated."

Eskel hums.

"Did you go on your way after the contract and happen upon each other later then ?"

"No, I wanted to leave but Aiden just decided to follow me around and stuck to me like a damn barnacle to a rock."

"Why would he do that ?", Eskel wonders.

"I don't exactly know," Lambert answers softly, "I think that he was lonely."

"Doesn't he have brothers still alive ?"

"I don't know, and if some of them are still alive, he isn't on speaking terms with any of them."

"Oh, well, sorry then."

"Anyway I ditched him in winter to come back, but the man tracked me down in spring again. We sort of played hide and seek together for a few years, until I couldn't deny that we were friends anymore."

"He sounds a bit exhausting to be honest, I don't know how you put up with him. I probably would have thrown him off a cliff or something."

"He's no more exhausting than Jaskier," Lambert growls, "And he's nice, alright ? He always brings me these tasty mushrooms when it's his turn to forage in spring and buys me blueberry pies in summer."

“Gaining your friendship seems so cheap when you say it like that,” Eskel snorts.

“Shut up,” Lambert grumbles, “And it goes both ways, I burn my fingers every autumn preparing chestnuts for him and I buy him his damn lemon jam, which is expensive shit.”

Eskel hums softly and brushes his nose against Lambert's throat.

"And Aiden, what is he then ?", Eskel asks intently like Lambert's answer is going to be crucial.

"He's an alpha actually, only found out last year."

Eskel chuckles and clucks his tongue.

"What ?", Lambert bristles.

"You really need to improve your stories if you want us to believe them, little brother."

Lambert feels his stomach drop and he sneers at Eskel.

"It is the damn truth !"

"Sure," Eskel agrees sarcastically, "I mean a drowner pet, friendship through bar brawls and sheer stubbornness, a tanned witcher and gift mushrooms, it's already a bit much but why not. But _you_ ? Willingly hanging out with an alpha ? That was a bit too much, Lambert."

"Fuck you," Lambert growls, "Then what are you doing here ? Humoring the poor lonely omega ? Collecting intel to make fun of me with Geralt and Jaskier behind my back ?"

Lambert angrily shoves Eskel away from him and gets up. His brother lets out a whine at the loss of contact but doesn't try to reach out for him again. 

"No, I really wanted to make up my mind about what you told us. I just didn't expect you to outright lie about it. I have to confess that you have quite a vivid imagination though.”

“Fuck you,” Lambert growls and stalks to the door.

Before he can step out of the library and flee, probably to the still room, Eskel catches up to him and grabs his arm to hold him back. Lambert snarls and breaks his hold.

“Hey, calm down,” Eskel says placatingly, “I'm not trying to be mean here, I just want you to know that you don't need to lie to us. We know you, Lambert, and we don't want you to lie to us to try to spare our feelings or whatever you're trying to do.”

“Whatever,” Lambert sneers and hurries out of the library.

He can't believe Eskel just listened to him, humored him and just dismissed everything he told him like Lambert uses to openly lie to his family. He doesn't know what he ever did to give them that impression, they probably don't know each other as well as they should after all.

Lambert hurries to the still room, is relieved he doesn't happen upon anyone else and locks himself into the room. He slowly breathes for a while, trying to make sense of what his life is turning into, and opens one of his notebooks when he feels calm enough. He spends the rest of the afternoon fiddling with his equipment until Vesemir comes to drag him upstairs to supper.

As expected supper is awkward and Vesemir sends them all to bed as soon as they're done like they're children needing constant supervision. Lambert grumbles as he goes up to his room but actually listens to the old Wolf, he doesn't want to be subjected to his ire more than necessary.

Unfortunately the next days are still awkward and nothing gets resolved by the time Geralt goes into rut and Jaskier into heat. Once again Lambert bears his brother's hugs stoically, but dodges the bard every time he comes near him, he just can't make himself accept his touch. Jaskier whines when Lambert sidesteps him, but he doesn't pursue him and usually attaches himself to Geralt who is more than happy to sate both of their needs for touch.

Lambert gets stuck on supplying his two brothers and their lover with food and drink again, and is just glad nobody invites him to share their bed like Jaskier did the previous year. He also becomes nervous in the men's absence. He knows that his own heat will arrive shortly after they're done and they haven't talked about boundaries and new expectations since the last clusterfuck.

And the problem is that Lambert doesn't know what he wants. He's sure that he doesn't want Jaskier anywhere near him, that's a given, but he's not sure about spending his heat completely alone either. Yet he doesn't know if Eskel and Geralt will agree to ease his discomfort again and worse, he doesn't know if he'll be able to trust them enough not to fuck up again.

By the time Geralt and Jaskier's three days of rut and heat have passed, Lambert has decided that he'll spend his own heat alone. It'll be uncomfortable, but it won't the first time he'll have to suffer through it alone. He shares his decision with Vesemir, who sadly but understandingly nods at him, and the old Wolf promises him to keep an eye on the others during his heat. Lambert feels himself slightly relax at his mentor's reassurances.

He doesn't share his new resolution with his brothers and Jaskier though, he's almost sure that they wouldn't understand him anyway and that they would try to push him on the issue. But as they're not talking about Lambert's heat, they all end up awkwardly facing each other over supper on the first day of Lambert's pre-heat. Lambert is acutely aware that everyone has their eyes trained on him and that they're all waiting for him to request to be touched, which he stubbornly decided to resist the urge to for as long as possible.

Everything finally comes to a head at the end of Lambert's pre-heat. Eskel had offered to let him use his lap during supper, and Lambert had refused with obstinate difficulty. He had commandeered Vesemir's hand instead and placed it on his back, when he just couldn't take the discomfort again and started pitifully whining in his seat at the table. It is Jaskier who finally breaks the thick tension.

"So are we going to talk about it ?", Jaskier finally broaches the subject as he pushes his empty plate away, "Because watching you be miserable is just painful."

"No," Lambert grunts even as he knows that he's going to be ignored.

"Tough," Jaskier says, "Because I am going to speak about it."

"Jaskier," Geralt sighs at the bard's side but doesn't expressly tell him to shut up.

"Hush, darling, we let the subject be ignored for long enough," Jaskier tells Geralt and then turns to Lambert, "So. I know that you probably have a reason to hate your heat, and I'm not asking you to share."

"Like I even would tell _you_ ," Lambert sneers and Vesemir huffs in annoyance at his side.

Jaskier just ignores him and continues on.

"But would you maybe consider our feelings about what you're doing to yourself ? We have to watch you deny yourself and fight against your needs, even as we're ready to help !"

"I'm not asking you to," Lambert snaps.

"Your body is !"

"My body may need it but my mind is strong enough to fight it ! I don't need your damn help so just let me wallow in misery for a week and ignore me !"

"I can't !", Jaskier exclaims and gets up, "I just can't. Let's try something else then. If Eskel was here and Geralt and I didn't make it, wouldn't you help him during his rut ?"

"I suppose," Lambert reluctantly says after a few seconds of contemplation, "I mean we'd have to discuss some things first, but _maybe_ if he asked..."

To be honest, Lambert can't picture himself helping Eskel, or Geralt for that matter, through his rut. He'd be highly uncomfortable and then he would have to explain that he didn't want to be knotted, and he can just imagine the pitying face Eskel would throw him as that information got out. But he did it for Aiden so it stands to reason that he probably would do it for Eskel or Geralt too. In the end, after setting boundaries and probably some begging on Eskel's part, Lambert has to concede that he certainly would help his brother.

"Then why don't you let us, let them really, help you ?", Jaskier loudly asks and points a finger at him.

"Because I'm not asking."

Jaskier growls at him.

"Then what would you do if Eskel didn't ask for help and you'd see that he was uncomfortable anyway ?"

"I think that I'll offer to help and drop it if he said no."

"Are you serious ?", Jaskier asks, flabbergasted, "You're fucking serious ! How could you just decide to ignore him if he needs you ?"

"It's called respecting one's wishes," Lambert grunts and gets up, "A lonely heat won't kill me so just drop the subject."

"What ?", Geralt asks and whips his head around to stare at Lambert.

"Are you saying that you don't want us to share your heat ?", Eskel asks incredulously.

"I didn't know if you still wanted to do it in the first place," Lambert explains with a carefree shrug, "And I don't think that I'm ready to welcome you to my bed again after last year's clusterfuck."

"Nothing fucking happened !", Geralt exasperatingly exclaims.

"You let him into my bed while I was completely out of it !", Lambert yells, "Who's to say you won't do it again."

Jaskier blushes and closes his eyes while Geralt huffs angrily. Lambert hopes that they still feel guilty about it, he certainly is still angry.

"We know we fucked up," Eskel calmly intervenes and approaches him, "And we can promise you that we won't do it again."

"You can keep your damn promises," he snarls as Eskel extends his right arm towards him and Lambert has to fight with himself not to take a step forward.

Eskel's open arms look so inviting and Lambert knows that he would hold him and comfort him and sate his needs as efficiently as he did for years. But Lambert's mind doesn't agree, only yearns for peace and quiet, and he takes a step backwards with difficulty. 

"Come on, Lambert," Eskel cajoles, "Don't do that, don't force yourself to be miserable."

"I'll do what I want," Lambert snaps, “And I don't need your hypocrisy either. Do I need to remind you that Geralt was ready to invite you to stay with Jaskier in Redania for the winter if I had told him that I didn't want him to bring Jaskier back ?”

“Lambert,” Geralt sadly whispers and Lambert gets up.

“What ? Because it didn't seem to bother you last year to ditch Vesemir and I, and sorry to let you know, but if you're in Redania, you're not in Kaer Morhen and I spend my heat alone anyway. So I don't see why my decision should bother you now,” Lambert sneers and is slightly glad to see his brothers look shamefaced.

He then flees the kitchen, runs to his room and is glad to note that nobody follows him. He closes the door behind him, seriously contemplates locking it but doesn't actually do it, because someone will have to bring him food and drink and he'd prefer to still have a door once his heat is done.

He undresses slowly, wipes his body down and scowls at his cock which is already stirring. He grits his teeth, ignores it and heads to his wardrobe. He rummages through it, gets his oldest blanket out and switches it with the one currently occupying his bed.

He then looks for his chains and swallows heavily once he finds them. He knows he had used them last winter, but it had been years since he spent a full heat alone and he's not really looking forward to it. But he's even less looking forward to inviting his brothers to help and to the state of distress that would surely follow, so the chains it is.

He considers shackling himself to the bed, like he usually does, and then thinks back to Aiden. His method had seem more confortable. So Lambert lies down on his bed, shackles his left wrist to his right ankle and slowly moves around to test it.

The lenght of chains between the two shackles is rather comfortable, he's forced to bend slightly but he doesn't end up completely curled up into a ball. He can wiggle around but the chains will prevent him from leaving the room.

He then just needs to find a place to hide the key. It must be somewhere he won't have the patience to reach to during his heat but still accessible for him to free himself after it. He frowns as he frees himself - no point using the chains tonight yet - and he rummages through his things until he finds a small jar where he can dump the key. The jar will then end up in a bag, which will be shoved in his bedside table's drawer under a pile of junk. Lambert thinks that it'll be enough.

The chains and the key end up on the bedside table for now and Lambert slips under his blanket with a weary sigh. His cock is still hard and he contemplates jacking off to relieve some tension when someone knocks on his door

"Get lost," he yells and hides under his blanket.

The door still opens because of course, of course nobody listens to him. Why can't they just leave him be ? He holds on tight to his blanket and refuses to look at the intruder. He feels someone slightly tug on the blanket before a hand manages to creep inside and starts to stroke his head. He lets out an involuntary relieved whimper and closes his eyes in shame. Why does his body always betray him ?

“Come on, Lambert,” Eskel soflty says, “I just want to see you.”

“Get lost,” Lambert moans through gritted teeth.

Eskel gently pries the blanket away and sits next to him. His hand keeps stroking his hair and Lambert leans into the touch even as he knows that he shouldn't.

“What do you want ?”, Lambert growls.

“I've got something for you.”

Eskel then shows him his left hand and waves a wooden phallus in front of his face. Lambert blanches and flinches away from it. He only ever used a wooden toy once, or rather he had it used on him during his second heat. He still remembers the painful drag of it as Brich had tugged it out of his ass, there had been blood on it. He hasn't touch another wooden toy since then.

“Get that out of my room,” Lambert snarls.

“What ?”, Eskel asks confused.

“I don't want it, get it out.”

“Lambert,” Eskel sighs, “I know that you hate your heat, but you're going to crave sex in a few hours, and if you insist on taking care of it yourself, then let me please make sure that you have something on hand to do it properly.”

“Go away,” Lambert mutters and adds louder, “Just leave me the fuck alone.”

Eskel shakes his head like he's disappointed in Lambert and leaves the wooden cock on the bedside table. Lambert angrily picks it up and throws it at Eskel's back. Unfortunately it doesn't hit him and thumps on the rapidly closing door instead. Lambert gets up snarling, picks the toy up, briefly wonders who it belongs to before he squashes that line of thought, goes to the window and throws it out.

He flops back on his bed with a whimper and curls into a ball. He hates Brich, he hates Eskel, he hates Jaskier and above all he hates his damn body which is still painfully aroused. Lambert finally gives in, wraps a hand around his prick and strokes himself fast and hard. Tears escape him and he can't stop thinking about Eskel's hand in his hair and Vesemir's hand on his back, and he hates himself even more as he comes. He closes his eyes after that, hides under the blanket and goes to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

When Lambert wakes up, it's still dark outside and his prick is hard again. His cunt is leaking slick and he just wants someone to hold him and fuck him. It takes him a few minutes to remember why he's alone in his bed and he gets the chains out as soon as he finishes bringing himself off. He shackles his hand to his ankle, hides the key and curls up under his blanket.

He manages to stay calm for maybe a quarter of an hour before he can't resist the urge to touch himself anymore. He slips his free hand between his thighs and pushes two fingers into his wet cunt. His orgasm hits not a minute later and he wipes his hand off his sheets with a grimace of disgust at his own weakness.

By the time Geralt knocks on his door to bring him breakfast, Lambert is actually crying and cursing his body, while he has four fingers pumping in and out of himself. He's vaguely aware of his brother making a distressed sound and he insults him to make him go away. Geralt complies wordlessly and Lambert then curses himself because eating with only one slick-covered hand isn't easy.

It still doesn't make him change his mind and he yells at Eskel at dinner and Geralt at supper to leave him alone, even as his body leans towards them hoping to be held and pleasured. And after supper the dread settles in. He knows that he only has a few more hours at best before he's going to be consumed by his needs and be incoherent for the next day, and he wonders if his brothers will be able to ignore his mindless begging and keep their hands to themselves.

He had always trusted them to take care of him and to not cross lines, but he doesn't know what to think anymore after what happened with Jaskier. The rational part of his mind believes that Geralt and Eskel wouldn't do anything they didn't agree upon together before, but the irrational part can't help but to wonder if Jaskier will convince them to join him anyway under the pretense to help him.

He becomes angry at himself again when he thinks about that scenario, because he knows that he should't doubt his brothers and the bard isn't evil, just pushy, and Vesemir has promised to stay alert and he doesn't know why he can't relax. Tears of shame are soon joined by tears of frustration and his agitation prevents him from going to sleep.

The only problem with the lack of sleep is that he feels the need slowly becoming unbearable. He can't stop himself from moaning and whimpering, he humps the bed and fits his fist inside his cunt despite the uncomfortable position he has to contort into to manage it. He's still not feeling satisfied though. And as the sun rises, he cries, lets out a loud scream of rage and lets the need consume him entirely.

When Lambert comes back to himself, he's glad to find himself alone. The first thing he notices is his prick, which is still hard and he huffs in annoyance. He's hungry and thirsty too, and in desperate need of a bath. And by the way he smells he doesn't think that he made it to the chamberpot yesterday.

He scowls and slowly stretches. His muscles are sore but at least he's not in pain. He slips his hand between his thighs then and lets out a sigh of relief when he finds just slick and no semen in his cunt. He then tediously gets himself off and looks at his chained wrist and ankle in puzzlement when he's done. Somebody bandaged them and Lambert can faintly smell blood when he sniffs them. He probably rubbed them raw struggling, but at this point he doesn't really care. 

He spends a few minutes just panting on his bed and praying for his cock to let him be for a while, when there's a knock on the door. Lambert doesn't answer but tugs the blanket over his naked body. Eskel slips his head through the crack of the door and grimaces at him. He enters and Lambert turns his back to him when he sees him scrunch up his nose in distaste. He hears his brother sigh as he approaches.

"Hey," Eskel softly whispers at him, "How are you feeling ?"

"Just peachy," Lambert snarks.

Eskel hums.

"I've got breakfast. Let me feed you please ? We struggled to get you to eat yesterday. Please."

"Who bandaged my wrist and ankle ?", Lambert asks instead of answering.

"Geralt did it yesterday afternoon after we brought you dinner. They were starting to bleed with the way you tugged on the chains."

"Thanks," Lambert grunts.

"You're welcome. So breakfast ?"

"Fine," Lambert sighs and turns back towards his brother.

He doesn't feel like fighting with Eskel right now. He's tired and sore and damn thirsty, and he knows that he'll eat and drink more with someone at his side than on his own.

"Can I sit ?", Eskel asks and points at the bed.

"Yes," Lambert grumbles.

Eskel sits down with a small pinched smile and carefully balances the breakfast tray on his knees. He then proceeds to feed Lambert small bites after small bites and supports the mug as he makes him drink the tea. He does everything so gently and softly, like he thinks that Lambert is some fragile omega who'll break at the first sign of roughness, that he starts to get angry. He doesn't need nor want to be coddled.

So when Eskel brings the last piece of toast to his mouth and gently strokes his cheek, Lambert leans into the touch, turns his head and bites his brother's hand. Eskel curses and startles so badly he makes the tray fall from his knees.

"Get out," Lambert grunts at him.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that ?", Eskel growls back as he massages his hand.

His brother gets up though, albeit with a put upon sigh, collects the tray, ruffles his hair and leaves with one last sad look thrown his way. Lambert flips him off, decidedly ignores the fact that he appreciated his brother's gentleness even if he doesn't want to admit it out loud and restlessly wiggles left and right on his bed.

His prick, which has been half hard since Eskel entered, swells again and Lambert vehemently curses. But this time instead of wallowing in misery, he gets angry. He doesn't understand why he can't just control his body's urges, it's so unfair.

So instead of stroking his prick, he clamps his hand around his shackled ankle and presses down on the bandages hiding the raw skin. It doesn't really hurt, it's merely uncomfortable, but it has the benefit of taking his mind off his need to be fucked.

When it isn't enough anymore, he scratches his stomach and his biceps and his chest with his free hand and stares at the red marks his nails leave behind. He feels a little bit better making it hurt, he can imagine that he's fighting it instead of revelling into something he can't control and hates.

Geralt is the one to bring him dinner and he gives Lambert such a pitying look when he sees the blood he's drawn by now that Lambert throws him out in a few seconds. Eskel is treated the same way when he comes by bearing supper.

By the time Lambert feels his heat receding, he's aching all over and his free hand is covered in slick and semen mixed with some blood. He's disgusted by himself. He still gets himself off one last time near midnight, making his orgasm as painful as he can by biting his arm and bending one of his fingers back, and he burrows under his blanket when he's done and happily lets sleep claim him.

He wakes up sore and aching but luckily unaroused. He's glad to note that the scratches and bites marks he inflicted upon his body have mostly healed during the night, and he contorts himself to reach the chains' keys.

He unceremoniously drops the shackles on the floor and efficiently strips the bed of the soiled sheets and blankets. He opens the window next, drapes himself in a blanket and slowly heads down to the hot springs. He dumps his dirty laundry into the adjacent room, wipes himself down over a bucket he musn't forget to dump outside later and waddles into the hotest pool.

He sinks into the water with a relieved sigh, submerges himself a few times, vigorously scrubs his hair and sits down on the bench lining the side of the pool when he's satisfied. He lets his sore muscles relax, tries to forget about the last few days' unpleasantness and closes his eyes.

He's vaguely aware of someone entering the hot springs a while later but nobody disturbs him. When he opens his eyes again, his chin is touching the water and the only thing keeping him from drowning are his arms casually hooked under the pool's edge. Vesemir is standing over him and silently judging him.

"What ?", Lambert drowsily asks and watches absently as his right arm extends and his hand takes hold of his mentor's leg looking for skin to touch.

"Get out and come join us for dinner," Vesemir grunts at him and dislodges Lambert's wandering hand.

Lambert whimpers being denied touch but complies anyway. Vesemir steps outside as he gets dressed, and he notes that someone was smart enough to bring some of his clothes down, Lambert feels oddly grateful at the nice gesture.

When he gets out, he's immediately drawn to Vesemir, who sighs but offers him his hand anyway. Lambert takes it after a small internal struggle - comfort wins over self hatred and isn't that just disgusting - and puts it over the bare skin of his arm instead of his ribs like he longs to do – comfort can go fuck itself.

"Jaskier cooked," Vesemir warns him as he leads him upstairs, "Apparently he does that when he feels distressed."

“What is _he_ distressed about now ?”

Vesemir throws him such a judgmental look that Lambert winces.

“He can shove his distress up his ass for all I care,” Lambert grumbles, “I hope that what he's cooking ends up being good.”

“Eskel's supervising, it should be edible at least.”

And indeed even if the meat pie Jaskier baked looks like shit, it is still edible and quite tasty, not that Lambert will acknowledge that last fact. He lets Eskel and Geralt hug him once they're done with their meal and mimes at the bard to shut up when it looks like he wants to intervene once again.

Lambert still gets bullied into spending his afternoon snuggling with Geralt while Eskel cards his fingers through his hair and Jaskier watches them with a contemplative frown on his face. He doesn't seem jealous though, just concerned, and Lambert tries to wiggle away when he can't stand the staring anymore. Unfortunately Geralt and Eskel tighten their hold on him and cling and whine until Lambert subsides. And Lambert doesn't really feel like fighting with them, it feels fucking nice being held after a lonely heat and he's comforted by the idea that soon everything will be over, he can endure a few hours of cuddling.

His last day of post-heat is more of the same. He ends up cuddling with his brothers in front of the library fire as Jaskier, instead of singing, tells them some redanian fairytales. Lambert dozes through most of it, catching the sleep that eluded him during his heat, and is astonished to hear Vesemir soflty converse with the bard about myths and folktales and the stories' variations one can find from one country to the other.

He's so glad when he manages to finally spend his night peacefully sleeping alone without having to deal with some stupid biological needs, that he gets out his last bottle of cherry liquor and brings it up at supper on the next day. They all linger in the kitchen, drinking and playing cards or dice, and everyone seems to agree to ignore what happened in the last few days for now.

Lambert then spends a rather nice evening and is glad to give Eskel his laundry task for the week after his brother loses to him. And of course, because Lambert's life isn't easy, things just can't continue on smoothly. He has the first inkling that something weird is happening when he finds Jaskier in the stables the next morning while Lambert has been tasked with mucking up the horses' stalls.

Jaskier then just happens to cross his path as Lambert collects the hens' eggs and is still nearby when Lambert helps Vesemir with dinner and even follows him down to the hot springs for his afternoon soak.

“What do you want ?”, Lambert growls at him, takes a hold of the bard's shirt and pushes him up against the hot springs' wall.

Jaskier grimaces at him and his hands end up over Lambert's. He's squeezing Lambert's hand repeatedly and breathing a bit too quick, and when Lambert sniffs him, he smells fear. He then lets the bard go and grimaces in disgust at his own behaviour and wonders why the man followed him here if he was afraid of him.

“I'm trying to get to know you better,” Jaskier says and stays glued to the wall, “I actually don't know you that well and we clearly got off on the wrong foot together, and I know that it weighs on Eskel and Geralt's minds. So I'd just really like for us to interact more and to get to know one another better. Preferably without any harm befalling me.”

“One word about heat or rut and I'm drowning you in there,” Lambert threatens him and points at the nearest pool.

Jaskier quickly nods at him and starts to undress. Lambert turns his back to him and shucks off his clothes before settling into one of the pools with a contented sigh. Jaskier joins him a few seconds later and hands him some nice smelling soap without a word. They wash quickly and then sit down each on one side of the pool and stare at one another. Lambert crosses his arms over his chest and scowls, he can be patient when he wants to and he's determined not to be the one to break the silence first.

“So, how old are you exactly ?”, Jaskier asks.

And that isn't what Lambert was expecting. He stares at Jaskier wondering what he thinks he'll gain if he answers and decides that it is better if he stays quiet.

“Because Geralt and Eskel refuse to tell me how old they are,” Jaskier prattles on, “And I really really want to know. I think that I could probably deduce something if you answer me. So ?”

“Piss off,” Lambert grunts.

“ _That_ is quite rude,” Jaskier huffs, “Fine, what's your favorite colour then ? Favorite food ? Favorite season ?”

Lambert stubbornly stays quiet.

“Oh, too easy for you ?”, Jaskier wonders, “More difficult then, why did we find Geralt's beloved wooden phallus shattered under your window then ?”

“You gave me Geralt's toy ?”, Lambert asks, disgusted.

“Not that you used it like it's supposed to be used,” Jaskier comments, “But yes, he was quite peeved about its loss too. So what did it do to you ?”

“I fucking told Eskel I didn't want it,” Lambert grunts and defensively crosses his arms over his chest, “Got a question for you too, why are you sticking by Geralt of all people ?”

“Because he's nice,” Jaskier answers simply, “And he takes care of me, makes sure I'm safe and allows me to take care of him. He's quite sweet, you know, and I love him.”

“And Eskel ?”

“I like Eskel and I knew about him from the very beginning of my relationship with Geralt, he made it quite clear that if I wanted something with him, I'd have to share. And we're working on it, pretty smooth progress so far, if I dare say so,” Jaskier congratulates himself with a small smile.

“Didn't need that much details,” Lambert grumbles.

“You asked,” Jaskier answers, “So why can't I go into your still room ?”

“Because,” Lambert grunts unhelpfully.

“You know, you're as chatty and approachable as Geralt was when we first met. And I'd like you to know that it didn't deter me.”

“Shut up,” Lambert grouches and stretches to reach the soap.

“Hey, why don't you let me wash your hair ?”, Jaskier asks.

The look Lambert gives him must be pretty scathing because the bard clearly winces.

“Don't look so judgemental,” Jaskier says defensively, “I can add some skull massages to sweeten the deal, I'm told that my fingers are a delight.”

Jaskier wiggles his fingers at him and approaches slowly.

“Fuck off,” Lambert snarls and moves away.

“Don't be like that,” Jaskier whines, “I wash your hair, you wash mine, it'll be a great bonding experience. If it worked on Geralt, I'm pretty sure that it'll work well with you too.”

“Stop doing that,” Lambert snarls.

“Doing what ?”, Jaskier asks, completely puzzled.

“Comparing me to _fucking Geralt_ ,” Lambert sneers, “I don't plan to become your damn pet.”

“Geralt is not my pet,” Jaskier pouts, “And sorry, I'll try to keep the comparisons to a minimum. So can I wash your hair ?”

“I told you to fuck off,” Lambert grunts.

He lets out a small imperceptible sigh of relief when the bard finally complies and heads back to his own corner of the pool. Jaskier fetches some soap too and starts on his own hair.

“You know, Lambert,” Jaskier mumbles, “I really don't understand you. Why do you always insist on making everything so hard for yourself ?”

“Because making things easy always comes at a price,” Lambert answers surprisingly honestly, “And I'm not willing to pay that price.”

Jaskier sadly hums at him but thankfully keeps his mouth shut. Lambert isn't sure that he would have been able to keep his composure had the bard started to question him on his belief. They finish washing in silence and Jaskier leaves him alone once he's done. Lambert nods at him as he gets out and finally allows himself to completely relax into the hot water. He closes his eyes and does his best to forget about the weird conversation that just took place.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll be glad to learn that the fic is done, I finished writing it this afternoon :D
> 
> Good reading and I'll see you soon!!!

The last few weeks of winter pass quickly. Nobody speaks about Lambert's heat again, and Geralt and Eskel make an effort to stay down in the kitchen with him and Vesemir at least two evenings per week.

Jaskier still follows Lambert around sometimes though, and when the bard finally understands that Lambert isn't in a sharing mood, he takes it upon himself to fill the silence. Lambert learns way too many things about the bard and even unexpectedly manages to memorize the lyrics of two of the bard's songs. It's quite annoying.

Lambert thinks about Aiden's offer too now that his heat has passed. He debates staying at the keep longer this year, and then he remembers Aiden's relieved face when Lambert had touched him during his rut last year and he can't bear to stay away. He has an inkling that sharing the Cat's rut will not be easy for him, but he doesn't want to disappoint Aiden.

So he decides to leave early again. He informs everyone of that fact the evening before he plans to depart. Geralt, Eskel and Jaskier frown at him and Lambert gets the idea that they're not pleased by his choice. He glares at them and turns to Vesemir who nods and promises to prepare some food for him to take with on his journey.

Unsurprisingly he finds everyone gathered in the kitchen at dawn when he comes down with his bags. He scowls at their presence – he doesn't need to be coddled ! – and grunts something that might pass for a _good morning_. He sits down across from a bleary-eyed Jaskier and steals the kettle right from under his nose. Jaskier makes a small unhappy noise and Geralt glares at him.

He hugs Vesemir, Eskel and Jaskier before he heads out to the stables and grumbles under his breath about Geralt who insists on following him. His brother watches him saddle his horse in silence and accompanies him to the gates of the keep. He grabs Lambert's arm before he can mount up and crushes him against his chest in a tight hug.

“You know that you don't need to leave so early because of us ? You could stay for another few weeks.”

“I'm not leaving because of you,” Lambert sighs, exasperated, “I have places to be and people to see. Not everything I do is because of you or Jaskier.”

“People like your made-up friends ?”, Geralt asks.

“They're not made-up,” Lambert growls, pissed off, and punches Geralt in the ribs to escape his hold.

“If you say so,” Geralt says dubiously, “But I'll only believe it when I'll see it.”

“Well, nobody asked you for your opinion, asshole,” Lambert sneers as he leads his horse through the gates.

“That was an invitation for you to bring them to Kaer Morhen if they actually exist,” Geralt yells after him.

Lambert doesn't bother to turn back towards his brother and flips him off. Anyway, he doesn't plan to bring Aiden or Coën to Kaer Morhen just to please his asshole of a brother and settle the bets he probably has running with the others. He concentrates on the still slippery trail down the mountain instead of his brother's nonsense and tries very hard to forget about it.

He definitely doesn't think about bringing Aiden or Coën to Kaer Morhen, the thought had never even crossed his mind until now, and makes swift progress south. He only has to stop once to take care of a forktail and keeps moving forward. His stomach soon ties itself into knots and he starts to feel nervous about seeing Aiden again. He stops in his tracks when he reaches Aiden's bog and spends at least an hour staring fixedly at it before he forces himself to move forward.

He doesn't know what he'll find at the end of the journey, doesn't even know if he'd prefer for Aiden to already have gone through his rut or not and trudges through the damn bog in a huff. He takes his frustration out on an unfortunate passing by drowner and arrives soaked and in a bad mood on Aiden's little patch of dry land.

Lambert heads for the stables first and doesn't expect to find Aiden there, faintly smelling of rut and tightly hugging his horse. He stares at the scene in front of him in puzzlement for a minute before loudly clearing his throat. Aiden quickly turns around and draws a dagger, before he relaxes and offers Lambert one of his widest and happiest smiles. Lambert makes do with a sort of grimace that he hopes can pass as an actual smile and opens his arms in invitation.

“Lambert,” Aiden greets him and joins him quickly to hug him, “You made it !”

“I... did,” Lambert says slowly, “What were you doing ? Brushing Thunder ?”

“Oh no,” Aiden whispers and looks away uncomfortably, “First day of pre-rut, hugging Thunder helps with the need to be touched, it's not ideal, obviously, but well... I make do.”

“Fuck”, Lambert sighs because hugging one's horse while going into rut is one of the saddest thing he has ever heard, “You can hug me instead. Not going anywhere.”

Aiden beams at him and proceeds to do exactly just that. He stays close as Lambert settles his horse next to his, plasters himself against his back and hums in contentment, and throws Lambert's arm over his shoulders when he's done and they move towards the house.

The one room house is rather dark, like usual, but there's a small fire burning in its pit against a stone wall. Lambert drops his packs and proceeds to stand as close to the flames as he safely can to warm himself. 

"I've got some stew left, if you want," Aiden hums against his throat.

"Later," Lambert says, "I'm not hungry yet. I also brought two bottles of vodka and a jar of pickled radishes. And I borrowed some candles too."

"You're the best."

Lambert grunts because he doesn't know how Aiden can stomach pickled radishes, he finds it absolutely disgusting, and wraps his arms more firmly around the Cat.

"Your winter went by okay ?", Lambert asks him.

"Fine, I'm a bit low on fresh food but overall it wasn't bad. And you, better than last year ?"

"A bit less shitty but shitty all the same."

"You know that you could stay here if you wanted to ?"

"Thanks," Lambert whispers, his throat tight, "I'll think about it."

"You do that," Aiden agrees with a smile, "Melitele knows you need to do more thinking."

"Smartass," Lambert grumbles.

"Can I tempt you into some shirtless cuddling now ?", Aiden asks with a cheeky smile.

Lambert snorts.

"Yeah, you can."

Lambert tugs Aiden towards the bed and pushes him down as he fiddles with his armor's buckles. Aiden's hands soon end up on his ribs as he watches him undress hungrily.

"You know that shirtless means that you need to take yours off too ?"

"Just enjoying the view," Aiden smirks, "You always look healthier when you come back from your castle. I like it."

Lambert blushes and tugs Aiden's shirt off him without answering him, he doesn't even know what to say to that.

“Oh,” he murmurs once Aiden is shirtless and he spots the torque around his neck, “You're still wearing it.”

“Of course I am,” Aiden whispers back just as softly and tugs him down into a kiss.

Lambert allows it and he brushes his fingers over the torque reverently. He had seen Aiden wear it during the past year, but he hadn't expected his lover to keep wearing it over winter as he was away. He's oddly glad he did it anyway. Once he can tear his gaze away from the torque, he gets both of their boots off and lies down next to Aiden.

The Cat immediately snuggles into his chest and throws his blanket and a heavy fur over both of their bodies. It's true that Aiden feels overly thin next to Lambert's body and he vows to catch him some deer or wild boar as soon as possible. 

Aiden hums contentedly and relaxes against his chest with a soft sigh. Lambert tucks the Cat's head under his chin, nuzzles his hair and closes his eyes. They doze together for a while until Aiden gets restless and elbows Lambert in the stomach trying to escape his hold.

"Oh, why can't you stay put ?", Lambert grumbles as he relaxes his hold and lets the Cat escape.

"Like I already told you many times, my bladder takes precedence over you."

Lambert lets out a small disgusted sound and burrows under the covers as Aiden disappears outside. He hears him come back inside and put a new log on the fire, and he stays completely still, hoping that Aiden will let him continue to nap in peace.

"Come on, get up," Aiden unfortunately adresses him and scratches the top of his head, "I put the stew back over the fire, we can eat in a few minutes."

"I'm not hungry," Lambert retorts as his stomach betrays him and rumbles.

Aiden laughs at his side and puts his cold hands over Lambert's neck. He hisses and flails, because he hates it when someone does that to him, but begrudgingly stands up. He shivers in the fresh air and hurries to put his shirt back on.

"Come on, we'll eat next to the fire," Aiden beckons him over.

Lambert trudges over and drags the heavy fur rug Aiden keeps under the bed in front of the fire. He makes sure that it doesn't sit to close to the pit, smoothes it out and plops down on it when he's satisfied with the setting. 

Aiden then hands him two wooden bowls and two spoons, before joining him in front of fire. He firmly sticks to Lambert's side so that they're touching and they watch the stew slowly heat up in silence.

When they deem it hot enough, Aiden fills the two bowls Lambert's holding and takes the pot out from over the fire before settling back in his place and ravenously scarfing down his supper. Lambert shakes his head at his behaviour and tells him to rummage into his bags to dig out some cheese when he's done.

Aiden hurries to comply, because he _loves_ cheese, and Lambert waves him off when he tries to offer him a bite. He then finishes his stew while Aiden slowly savors the last pieces of the hard goat cheese Vesemir gave him when he left Kaer Morhen.

Lambert then takes care of the dishes while Aiden settles back on the bed and intently peers at him from under the covers. He sets the bowls and the cutlery to dry, disappears outside to answer nature's call too and comes back inside with frozen hands.

He discards his boots again, his shirt and after a few seconds of hesitation his trousers too. Aiden grins at him and wiggles under the covers before dropping his own trousers on the floor. Lambert rolls his eyes and picks them up with a pointed look before putting them on the chest at the end of the bed with his own clothes.

He then places his cold hands over Aiden's ribs and smirks at him when he whines.

"You're just horrible," Aiden mumbles from his spot at the far side of the bed where he rolled over to escape Lambert's hands and ended up plastered against the wall.

"You totally deserve it," Lambert says and shrugs.

He then tugs the blanket and the fur off Aiden to be able to slip in too and isn't even surprised when Aiden immediately uses his chest as a pillow. Lambert scrunches up his nose slightly when he catches a whiff of Aiden's rut scent, but doesn't move.

"How far are you willing to go during my rut ?", Aiden asks him in a whisper after a few minutes of cuddling.

Lambert lets out a sigh and closes his eyes as Aiden tightens his hold on him, probably afraid Lambert is going to bolt.

"I don't know," Lambert says and swallows heavily, "I mean I'm pretty sure that I can handle your first and third days like last year, but I don't know how I'll react to your second day of rut."

"You can leave me alone if you don't think that you can bear it," Aiden says and Lambert feels like a failure.

He should be able to help Aiden through it, shouldn't feel dread just at the idea of spending time with a rutting alpha, afterall Aiden is nothing like Birch and Lambert _chose_ to help this time. 

"Hey, stop thinking too hard about it," Aiden says and kisses his chest, "You do what you can, nothing more, nothing less and it'll be perfect."

"Do you want me here with you for the second day ?", Lambert asks him seriously.

"Not if you don't want to be."

"That's not... Stop focusing on me for a minute here," Lambert says, exasperated, "Are you sure that _you_ want _me_ here ?"

"Why wouldn't I ?", Aiden asks him so innocently that Lambert has to squeeze his eyes tightly shut lest he starts to cry.

Why is it so hard for him to deal with his heat, whereas it seems so _easy_ for the others ? Aiden hasn't even contemplated not having him near, Jaskier had asked him to share his heat after a week long acquaintance and Geralt and Eskel managed to find their rhythm probably pretty quickly. 

And then there's him who is still pathetically struggling about promising his lover to stay by his side in his time of need, who won't be able to offer him everything he needs because taking a knot is just out of the question and who can't even start to think about offering Aiden to share Lambert's heat in return. He's _such_ a failure.

“I'll try then, I'll do my best,” Lambert says in a strangled voice.

“It'll be perfect,” Aiden assures him and kisses his chest again.

Lambert doesn't dare answer, he's pretty sure that he'll lose his composure if he tries to speak now and closes his eyes. They still have a day before Aiden's rut will hit, they'll be able to iron out the details on the morrow. The Cat wiggles around a bit before settling comfortably next to Lambert. He forces his muscles to relax, forces his body to copy the rhythm of Aiden's breathing and goes to sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

The next day passes by in a blur. Aiden gets clingy and in the afternoon Lambert struggles just to get him into his tiny tub to enjoy one last bath before he gets lost into his rut. He has to promise Aiden that he'll let him bury his head between Lambert's thighs for the Cat to finally relent and sit quietly in the tub.

Lambert then thoroughly washes Aiden, takes care of his long hair and by the end of it, his lover feels so lazy that he asks Lambert to dry him off. He rolls his eyes but fetches the towel all the same and dries Aiden off quickly. He is on his knees in front of Aiden, gently towelling his feet when he spots the Cat's prick starting to show an interest in the proceedings.

“Want me to do something about that ?”, Lambert asks, because it's the first time since his pre-rut started that Aiden gets aroused and he needs to know what the Cat wants.

“If you feel like it,” Aiden answers in a casual tone.

Lambert rolls his eyes because Aiden's intent stare clearly belies his nonchalance. He ends up kissing and biting Aiden's thighs before he gets his mouth on the Cat's hard prick. Lambert really intends to make their tryst last, but Aiden clearly has another idea and he chases his orgasm quickly. He goes to his knees when they're done and passionately kisses Lambert.

“Can I get you off now ?”, Aiden then asks him breathlessly when he releases his lips and tenderly rests his forehead against Lambert's.

Lambert nods and a small yelp escapes him as Aiden picks him up and carries him to the bed. He dumps him in the middle of the bed and Lambert pokes the Cat's stomach with his feet.

“Don't do that,” he grumbles.

Aiden smiles and tugs Lambert's trousers and smallclothes off. Lambert huffs and wiggles out of his shirt, before asking for a kiss. Aiden grants his resquest and then manhandles him so that Lambert ends up on his back, legs bent and cunt on display. He tenses, can't really help himself what with the sudden change of position and the smell of alpha in rut permeating the air.

“Shh,” Aiden soothes him, “Just me. Not gonna knot you, not even gonna put my prick anywhere near your delightful cunt, just wanna eat you out, like you promised I could.”

Lambert lets out a deep breath and forces his muscles to relax. He reminds himself that he trusts Aiden and that his lover isn't in rut yet, he's perfectly able to control himself.

“What are you waiting for then ?”, Lambert then cheekily asks and takes hold of his legs to keep them spread.

Aiden laughs and buries his face in his cunt. Lambert lets out a small surprised sound and then an interested one when Aiden's tongue laps at his folds. Lambert soon lets out a quiet whimper and Aiden moans in return between his thighs.

He knows that the Cat enjoys his cunt, even if Lambert doesn't let him play with it often. He has a weird relationship with his cunt, he hates it half of the time, and much prefers his lover's attention to be focused on his ass and his prick. So letting Aiden bury his tongue in his cunt must feel like a treat to the Cat witcher and one he sure is intending to enjoy to the fullest if his dedication to make Lambert feel good is anything to go by.

Aiden licks and sucks and moans between his thighs until Lambert is whimpering in need and his hard cock is leaking. Only then does he wrap his clever fingers around Lambert's prick and slowly strokes him. Lambert feels his orgasm build, can't help but rock back and lets out a strangled shout as he comes.

Lambert then lets his legs fall back on the bed and tries really hard to keep his eyes open. Aiden sprawls right next to him with a smug smirk gracing his wet lips and Lambert lets out a tired huff.

“You look good wrecked over my bed,” Aiden purrs into his ear and Lambert shivers.

“Smugness doesn't become you, smartass,” Lambert grumbles back tiredly.

Aiden laughs.

“Close your eyes, Lambert,” Aiden then tells him and throws an arm over his waist, “Melitele knows you need your rest, I'll exhaust you soon enough.”

Lambert sighs and for once listens to Aiden without complaining. The gods know that the Cat is right and Lambert needs all the sleep he can get, before Aiden goes from cuddle monster to sex crazed witcher. Sleep doesn't take long to claim him.

Lambert wakes up when the sun sets because he's cold. Aiden, the asshole, has taken the covers off him, and is poking him in the ribs to rouse him. Lambert drowsily swats at him and shouts when the Cat decides to pick him up instead and dumps him into the small tub full of lukewarm water.

"I fucking hate you," Lambert growls as Aiden throws water over his head and he is left spluttering.

Aiden hums and proceeds to wash his short hair. He then takes to softly massage his skull and once Lambert is utterly boneless in the tub, he grabs a piece of cloth and washes his body too. He then bullies Lambert into stepping out of the tub, towels him dry and empties the tub while Lambert sits next to the fire with a heavy fur around his shoulders.

They eat supper when Aiden comes back, some jerky, a vegetable soup and the Cat opens the jar of pickled radishes and tucks in with delight.

"We should talk about what comes next," Aiden slowly announces when they're done and back to cuddling into bed.

"We should," Lambert reluctantly agrees.

He knows that Aiden is right, they need to set some boundaries now that the Cat's rut is imminent. But it doesn't mean that Lambert is looking forward to this conversation.

"Don't do anything you don't want to do," Aiden firmly states as an opening and Lambert stupidly nods, "And if I ask you for something you're not willing to offer, don't hesitate to tell me no and to push me away. Alright ?"

Once again Lambert stupidly nods.

"Don't go mute on me now, Wolf," Aiden says and nudges him.

"Don't call me that," Lambert grunts back as usual when Aiden decides to use the stupid nickname.

"As long as you speak to me, I won't need to resort to it."

"Fine," Lambert grumbles, "I... I... Fuck. What I mean to say is that I don't think that I'll be able to take your knot."

"It's fine," Aidem casually agrees.

Lambert doesn't know how Aiden manages to be so calm even as he is being denied the thing he'll crave the most in the next three days.

"I'm sorry," Lambert apologizes for his failure.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Aiden contradicts him, "Fuck, Lambert, I spent decades alone on my ruts, even if all you were able to offer was a bit of cuddling, it would be enough."

"You deserve more than a bit of cuddling," Lambert states.

"And you deserve more than shitty heats, but here we are."

"We're not speaking about me," Lambert defiantly growls as Aiden continues on as if he hasn't just been interrupted.

"So don't worry your pretty head about what should have been and concentrate on the present. And again, _do not hesitate_ to push me away if I still try to shove my cock into your cunt or your ass during the next three days."

"I won't," Lambert promises, "Any other request ?"

"I understand that you'll have to chain me up if you'll end up needing space, but if I'm not overbearing, please don't restrain me."

"I promise," Lambert vows.

"Thank you. And you, what do you want ?"

"I don't really know... To make you feel good ? I mean it's the first time that I will willingly spend time with a rutting alpha, I don't know what I want."

"Can I get you off ? Put your cock in my mouth ? My face between your thighs ? My cock in your mouth ?"

"I guess so," Lambert answers and rolls his eyes as he feels Aiden's prick twitch next to his thigh, "I think that everything will be fine, just no knot. And we may probably want to be careful about you fingering me, at least in the beginning.” 

Aiden hums against him and rubs his cheek over Lambert's chest. 

"Do you mind if we start early ? I want to suck your cock," Aiden asks with a sheepish grin.

"You always want to suck my cock," Lambert grumbles as he takes a hold of Aiden's hair and gently pushes him down his body.

"Such enthusiasm," Aiden sarcastically says and Lambert guides him towards his prick to shut him up.

The first day of Aiden's rut somewhat follows this same pattern. Aiden insists on getting Lambert off before thinking about his own needs, and then ends up whining into Lambert's skin when he gets his hands or his mouth on Aiden's body.

The Cat keeps his hands well away from Lambert's cunt and ass, as if he is afraid he couldn't stop himself were he to touch him there. Lambert doesn't say anything but he's grateful for the small attention anyway.

The second day is another matter entirely. Lambert is woken up by fingers slipping between his thighs and startles so badly that he unintentionally punches Aiden in the stomach. He then gets up and when he looks at the Cat, he doesn't find the playful lover of the last day, but a moaning shivering mess with dazed eyes that is slowly crawling towards him despite the fact that Lambert just hurt him.

"Fuck," he whispers, "Fuck."

He hates seeing Aiden like that. He takes hold of the Cat's fingers and squeezes.

"Please, please," Aiden moans and brings Lambert's hand to his mouth and proceeds to lick it and rub it over his face.

Lambert swallows with difficulty and slips behind Aiden. He tugs his lover towards his chest, nuzzles his throat - which Aiden seems to like if the moan he lets out is any indication - and gets his hands on the Cat's hard cock. He strokes him slowly at first and speeds up when Aiden starts to beg.

He grits his teeth and tries not to focus on the breathless pleas falling from Aiden's lips and is relieved to hear him shout his release. He keeps his hands around the Cat's cock and squeezes his knot the way they found out yesterday Aiden really likes. Lambert only takes his hands away when he feels the knot receding and quickly gets up while Aiden is still somewhat out of it.

He washes and wipes his hands, throws a new log onto the fire, starts to brew some tea and collects the last of the fresh corn salad and some jerky. He pours the tea a few minutes later and by the time he goes back to the bed, Aiden is writhing against the sheets and frantically stroking himself.

He abandons his task once he sees Lambert and the Cat's hands soon tug him towards the bed. Lambert swears and barely saves the tea. He then has to pry Aiden's fingers away from his cunt and the Cat lets out a mournful whine accompanied with a broken _please_. Lambert sadly shakes his head, goes to his knees and sucks Aiden off instead.

He ends up with come on his face, because he pulled away so as to not unintenionally get Aiden's knot stuck in his mouth and he makes a face when the Cat crawls towards him and starts to lick him clean. He swats him away and waves the mug of tea in front of his face instead. He gets him to drink with difficulty and has to get him off one more time before Aiden accepts to eat. As Lambert is finding out, bargaining with a sex crazed witcher is hard work.

Once Lambert is satisfied with what Aiden has eaten, he tugs him to his feet and drags him outside so that he can relieve himself. _That_ is another nightmare that he'll try to forget quickly and when they come back inside, Lambert lets Aiden bury his face and some of his fingers into his cunt.

Despite his quick release, he doesn't manage to relax enough to truly enjoy it, and he can't let himself be lulled to sleep after his orgasm, because Aiden, still lost in a sex frenzy and lacking his full mental capacity, immediately tries to stick his cock into Lambert's cunt. He lets out a frustrated shout at being denied again and Lambert fucking feels bad about denying him what he clearly needs.

He offers Aiden his mouth instead and squeezes his knot between his hands again when it pops. He strokes the knot and kisses it and licks it as an apology for his failure to sate his needs and is glad to note that Aiden seems to like his ministrations. Unfortunately his prick soon acts up again and Lambert has to resign himself to the fact that he'll probably spend the rest of the day servicing a mindless Aiden.

He actually needs to take a break after midday when he can't bear to look at Aiden mindlessly rubbing himself off Lambert's leg and trying to get at his cunt anymore. He brings him to climax once again and is so glad the Cat decides to take a nap after that.

He lets him flop belly first onto the bed, kisses his temple, places a fur over his body and walks outside once he's sure that he is asleep. He doesn't go far, isn't really feeling comfortable leaving Aiden alone and completely defenseless, and stops at the nearby stream.

He goes to his knees on the grass and plunges his hands into the cold water. He scrubs them until he stops feeling the phantom weight of a knot in them and curses when he takes them out of the water. They're red and sport several scratches and he knows that Aiden will worry if they aren't healed by the time he comes back to himself on the morrow.

"Fuck," Lambert softly curses and then adds louder, "Fuck."

He ends up screaming curses at the river and feels tears of frustration escape his eyes. He hates seeing Aiden like this, mindlessly subservient to his body's sexual urges, and he hates that he can't help him properly and he hates and he hates and he _hates_. 

It takes him a few minutes to calm down and he furiously wipes his cheeks as he goes back to the house. He finds Aiden wide awake and just stepping out of the house completely naked. Lambert curses himself, Aiden probably heard him and went looking for him, and he tugs him back inside.

He lights a new candle and stokes the fire as Aiden plasters himself to Lambert's back. The Cat soon starts to plead with him, soft _pleases_ slipping from his lips and Lambert lets himself be dragged back to bed with a weary sigh.

By the end of the day, Lambert's prick has trouble rising up to the challenge Aiden poses, and by the time the Cat falls asleep in the middle of the night, Lambert doesn't even want anyone to touch it anymore, preferably for a few days. He knows that it is an unrealistic expectation though and he falls asleep with Aiden's body pinning him to the bed. 

He actually wakes up before Aiden in the morning and watches as his lover's eyelashes flutter and he opens his eyes. He holds his breath and prays for Aiden to be coherent once again. Not that he ever heard of someone staying stuck into the mindless phase of rut or heat for more than a day, but it still worries him.

"Lambert, ?", Aiden softly croaks at him and he is so glad to hear him speak instead of begging that he doesn't even try to hide the relieved sigh that escapes him.

"Glad to have you back," Lambert says and cards his fingers through Aiden's hair.

"Glad to see you didn't run off. Can I have some water ?"

Lambert silently hands him the mug sitting on the bedside table - the one he had uselessly tried to make Aiden drink yesterday evening - and watches him drink. He puts the mug back once Aiden's done and patiently waits for the Cat to speak.

"Are you alright ?", Aiden asks him once his head is comfortably pillowed on Lambert's chest again.

"I'm fine," Lambert says in a strangled voice.

"You don't sound fine."

"Just let it go," Lambert softly asks, "Nothing bad happened, I'm just a bit spooked is all. It will pass soon enough."

Aiden hums at him.

"I'm really really glad to have you back with me though," Lambert whispers softly as he looks at the ceiling.

Aiden's hand finds his and he squeezes tightly. And just as Lambert is ready to fall back asleep, Aiden's stomach rumbles and his prick stiffens against Lambert's thigh.

"Sorry," Aiden murmurs, "Go back to sleep, I can take care of it on my own."

"Don't be stupid," Lambert sighs.

He tugs Aiden up so that he can kiss him and gets one of his hands around his lover's cock. It doesn't take long to make Aiden spill and Lambert swats the Cat's hand away from his own cock when he tries to return the favor, he's not in the mood right now.

They get up after that and Lambert rummages through Aiden's pantry until he finds something to eat. He grimaces at the jerky, the potatoes and the last wrinkled apple he finds, and he knows that they won't be able to linger here for long after Aiden's rut passes.

He forces the Cat to eat the whole apple and some jerky, while he busies himself preparing some sort of stew with cured meat and potatoes for their dinner and supper. He takes a quick break outside when the pot is safely cooking over the fire and ends up back into bed when he comes back inside.

"You're a menace," Lambert grunts as Aiden gently guides Lambert's head towards his crotch.

It's a miracle they don't burn the stew and Lambert has just enough time to take it out of the fire before Aiden is whining _again_ asking him to come back to bed. Lambert grumbles but he's so glad to hear him speak that he readily complies anyway.

Aiden's last day of rut is almost calm compared to the first two days or even the day Lambert had shared with him the year before. Aiden isn't frantic anymore, he's still demanding, but they can afford to be slow now that the worst of the need has passed. When Aiden remarks on the change, Lambert grudgingly concedes that having someone nearby probably helped.

Lambert remembers the frenzy that came with spending one of his heats alone, the feeling he found back this year, that nothing can sate him and the unrest that follows. And Aiden who had never shared his rut with anyone until now is discovering the calming effect a partner can have on the process.

Aiden seems so fucking grateful for his help that he insists on getting his mouth on Lambert's prick again. Lambert first cringes away from Aiden, remembering the frenzied touches he had to bear the day before, and then gets angry at himself for not trusting his lover and rolls back towards him. Aiden must sense some of his discomfort though, because he threads his fingers with Lambert's and ostensibly keeps their hands on his stomach where he can keep an eye on them.

Altogether Lambert has to admit that the last day of Aiden's rut is far more enjoyable than even the beginning had been. By the time the sun sets, the Cat is almost back to normal and is happy to doze against Lambert with the occasional handjob thrown in to take care of the residual need.

“I'm glad you were here,” Aiden finally whispers against the skin of Lambert's throat just before they're ready to call it a day.

“And I'm glad I could help,” Lambert murmurs back and squeezes Aiden's shoulders.

And to his own astonishment, Lambert finds out that he means it. He still isn't really comfortable around Aiden's knot, hates the way his lover looked on the second day, but he's happy all the same to have been here, to have been allowed to help and make sure Aiden was safe. And he thinks that if Aiden asks again, Lambert will agree to come back to share his rut, because the thought of a miserable Aiden writhing in need on his bed by himself is one that doesn't sit well with him.


	14. Chapter 14

Aiden and Lambert spend the Cat's two days of post-rut at his house. They mostly cuddle on the bed or in front of the fire, nap when they feel like it and generally are as lazy as they want. They linger another day to empty the pantry, wash their clothes and Aiden's sheets and blankets, dust the house and ready the horses, before they close the door behind them and head out into the world.

They travel together for two weeks during which Lambert holds his promise and hunts a wild boar that he gifts to Aiden with a smug smile. The Cat shakes his head at his behaviour but enthusiastically tucks in once the boar is perfectly roasted. 

After Lambert is reassured that Aiden won't keel over from hunger, he decides to go on his own way for a little while. He still needs to process everything that happened during Aiden's rut and he needs some time alone. Aiden sadly nods when Lambert announces him that he's leaving and doesn't even look suprised.

"I'll come back, I promise," Lambert tells him on the morning he is set to leave, "I'm not abandoning you."

“I know,” Aiden says and hugs him tight, “I'll be waiting.”

“Don't be dramatic,” Lambert grunts even as he scratches Aiden's scalp to soothe him, “I'll miss you too.”

“You better.”

Their goodbye kiss turns into two and then three kisses, and Lambert has to step away before they end up having sex on the ground. Lambert knows exactly what he is talking about, it happened enough times already for him to know when to step back. Aiden lets him go with an overly dramatic whine and Lambert rolls his eyes.

He then gets up on the saddle, lets Aiden tug him down one last time to share a kiss and urges his horse forward. He forces himself not to look back, he wouldn't put it past Aiden to fake tears to make him come back, and heads west towards where he thinks he'll find Coën. Meeting the Griffin will be a nice distraction from his inner turmoil.

When Lambert finally reaches Temeria's western coast, he asks around for another witcher. Unfortunately nobody can help him and he travels south taking care of harpies' nests and sea serpents against retribution.

He stops after a few weeks and settles in a cave overlooking the sea. He swims, fishes, eats some weird algae that makes him loopy, and keeps eating it because it's relaxing, naps and meditates.

Once he feels calm enough, he thinks back about Aiden's rut. He knows that he hated the fact that Aiden lost his mind during his rut, is sure that he'll keep hating it, but at the same time he was glad to be present to make the experience less shitty for Aiden.

And like he already realized, he's almost sure that now that he did it once, he'll be ready to do it again were Aiden to ask. He wouldn't dare ask it of him, being afraid to make him feel pressured, but he'd say yes to the Cat's question.

He's glad to realize that Aiden's insistent tries to knot Lambert on his second day of rut didn't break the trust Lambert placed in him. It freaked him out, but he managed to keep him away well enough and knowing that Aiden didn't do it on purpose helps. It enables him to be angry at the gods or Destiny or whatever and not at Aiden.

But he has to concede that the few weeks he's spending on his own are nice too. He can process everything at his own rhythm and escape Aiden who had been clingy, probably trying to make sure he didn't traumatize Lambert for life.

Once he's satisfied about all the introspection, he goes back to fishing and dries some of the loopy algae to bring back to Aiden. He makes a note to stop at a market on his way back to buy Aiden a new piece of alpha jewelry too and maybe some lemon jam if he can find any that is not overpriced.

And that is how Coën finds him. He's drying algae and slowly getting high on the smoke when he whips his head around and fumbles with his swords trying to draw one. He scowls when he spots a grinning Coën at the mouth of the cave and stands up on slightly shaky legs.

"Asshole," Lambert slurs at him.

He drops his half unsheathed sword back on the floor and takes a wobbly step forward. 

"Are you alright ?", Coën asks him, concerned.

"Never better," Lambert answers with a grin and tugs the Griffin into his arms once he reaches him, "I found some good stuff."

"Are you high ?", Coën wonders, clearly taken aback.

"Less high than if I had decided to eat the damn algae, but a bit high anyway."

Coën sighs against his neck and walks him back to his seat. He shakes his head at him and goes back outside, probably to take care of his horse. In the meantime Lambert puts the dry algae away into his reconditioned pickled radishes jar and throws the rest of it into the fire to get rid of it, he'll be able to collect more later anyway.

It takes him a few seconds to notice the mistake he made. He swears when the algae starts to give off smoke and quickly escapes the cave. He coughs and goes to the sea to wet his face trying to clear his head. He's much more composed when he goes looking for Coën and the both of them settle on the sand waiting for the fire to die and for the air of the cave to clear itself out.

Seeing Coën again is exactly what he needs. The Griffin doesn't ask him any personal questions, agrees to get high with him on the second day of their reunion and readily sleeps next to him with no further expectations. They abandon the cave after a day and go on a stupid drunken spree through coastal Temeria.

They drink a tavern dry, buy another one out of their liquor and delight in trouncing people at gwent. Coën usually loses to get their opponents into a good mood and lull them into a false sense of safety, and Lambert plays the next rounds cheating and winning.

They destroy someone's garden and take off with all of their fresh strawberries and salads. And they also steal a hen. Lambert doesn't even remember stealing the damn hen, but when he wakes up the next day, he inadvertently crushes its egg on his armour while sitting up.

Coën laughs at him and keeps laughing at him as Lambert scrubs his armour clean. Seeing as he didn't wake up in a good mood, once Lambert catches the damn hen, he butchers it swiftly and roasts it over the fire with a very satisfied smirk. The first bite of the meat is so good that Lambert lets out a small delighted moan.

They decide to end their chaotic two weeks journey with a harpy hunt, for which they're sober for the first time since they reunited, and organize a feast over their fire once they're done. And it's on this last night that Lambert speaks about what is on his mind.

"My brothers don't think that you and Aiden exist," Lambert says when they're done eating and are guzzling some not so bad ale companionably.

"For all I know Aiden doesn't exist," Coën teases him.

Lambert rolls his eyes.

"But you never accused me of lying about him."

"Yeah, because the way you speak about him, I'd be stupid to believe you made him up."

"Well you're already smarter than my brothers then."

"Okay," Coën sighs, "Why were you speaking about us to them then ?"

"I got mad at them, told them I was going to stay with Aiden for the winter. And they thought that I was saying bullshit."

"And where does my name appear into the conversation ?"

"Told them I had friends, plural," Lambert says and glares at the fire as Coën sighs.

"Well they're idiots then, because I definitely feel very much alive, and I'm almost sure that you don't have enough imagination to make _me_ up."

"Thanks," Lambert answers.

"So do you want me to ask you why you got mad or should I drop it ?"

“They were jerks about my heat,” Lambert grumbles and steels himself for Coën's reaction.

They never talked about secondary genders together and so he's not even sure that Coën knows that he's an omega.

“Oh,” Coën softly breathes.

“What does _that_ mean ?”, Lambert bristles.

“I didn't know that you were an omega,” Coën explains with a sheepish grin, “Thought you were a beta like me actually.”

“Uh, didn't peg you as a beta.”

“And what pray tell did you peg me as ?”

“An omega actually, you always seem uncomfortable when we happen upon an omega in pre-heat or an alpha in pre-rut, so I thought that you must be either an alpha or an omega. And you seemed too nice to be an alpha.”

Coën rolls his eyes at that.

“You are utter _shit_ at guessing secondary genders,” Coën firmly states.

“Not true,” Lambert mutters at this usual observation.

Coën scoffs.

“Remember a few years ago when those nobles asked for us ? A marquess near Maribor who had an archespore problem ? And when we arrived, the room reeked of pre-heat and you gritted your teeth and when we got out, you couldn't stop ranting about the damn marquess, obviously an alpha, forcing his wife to attend court even as she was going into heat.”

“He could have excused her !”, Lambert exclaims angrily.

“Newsflash, genius,” Coën says grinning, “The marquess was the omega, not the marchioness.”

“You're making that up !”

“No, and if you had paid attention to the mutterings of the servants, you would have known that they were concerned about their lord and would have prefered he let his wife lead the meeting while he retired.”

“You're lying,” Lambert mutters petulantly.

“I'm not and you're perfectly aware of it,” Coën grins, “Now stop denying the truth and acknowledge the fact that you're _shit_ at distinguishing people's secondary gender.”

“Fuck you.”

“I'm afraid I'll have to decline that _heartfelt_ proposition of yours.”

“ _Smartass_ ,” Lambert hisses.

“Asshole.”

They fall silent after that and Lambert throws another bottle of ale to Coën once the Griffin is done with the current one. He can't help but wonder why his friend seems always so uncomfortable around omegas in pre-heat or alphas in pre-rut though. He won't ask obviously, because it's not his business but he wonders all the same.

“I can hear you thinking all the way from here,” Coën sighs after a few minutes of silence, “Come on, ask your question.”

“You sure ? It's rather personal.”

“Ask. I won't answer if I don't want to.”

“What's your deal with alphas and omegas ?”

Coën sighs, finishes his bottle of ale and sprawls on the ground. He keeps his eyes trained on the night sky and whispers his answer.

“Fuck. It took you a long time to ask.”

“Just curious. Not asking for an answer if you don't want to give me one.”

“I never spoke about it to anyone. And not many people know about what I'm going to tell you, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't spread it around.”

“Sure,” Lambert agrees and crawls over to Coën.

He feels like another shitty conversation is headed his way and he settles at Coën's side, their sides barely touching and his eyes trained on the stars in the sky too, in the hope of offering some comfort to his friend.

“I don't know how your school dealt with the secondary gender issue,” Coën softly begins.

“Institutionalized rape,” Lambert grunts back, his throat oddly dry.

“ _Shit_ ,” Coën swears and his hand finds Lambert's and squeezes.

“How was it done by yours ?”, Lambert asks and squeezes back.

“Most of the Griffins were betas,” Coën explains, “We took in all the children offered to us, but the mages didn't want to mutate omegas and alphas.”

“Did they kill them ?”, Lambert asks.

“No. The keep was cut in half. One part was for the witchers and the mages, and the other was for the humans. The omegas were sent there as soon as they arrived seeing as they were easy to spot. But you can't distinguish betas from alphas until our late teens. So the mages did some tests on us and the alphas were sent away too.”

“Did it hurt ?”

“I don't think that _I_ was hurt,” Coën slowly says as if trying to remember the test, “My memories are a bit fuzzy. I just remember a boy being tested beside me, must have been six or seven, and the test accidentally triggered his first rut. He was too young and his body didn't bear the strain, he died screaming in a nearby room a few hours later.”

“ _Fuck mages_ ,” Lambert hisses angrily.

“Fuck mages,” Coën agrees, “Anyway the test wasn't always reliable so some alphas were still mutated and discovered later, but it was too late to send them away and it would have been a waste to kill them so they continued to train alongside us.”

“So you didn't have much contact with alphas or omegas growing up ? Or were you allowed to visit the human side of the castle ?”

“We were forbidden to go there until we were fifteen or sixteen. The alphas and the omegas, they stayed human and as far as I got to see, they were treated correctly. They worked for us, did the laundry, had fields to take care of, copied books, foraged for food, tended the gardens and the like. And we protected them, sheltered them and helped with the heavy tasks.”

“Doesn't seem that horrible,” Lambert comments.

“That's what I thought in the beginning too. By the time we turn fifteen, our trainers take us down to the fields and we have to help with the harvests. It was nice, you got to be outside, didn't get yelled at for a few days and got to speak to new people. And when you're done for the day, you get to go back to the castle and tag along the humans.”

Lambert hums at his side and wonders where this is going.

“We shared a meal and then the older boys dragged us upstairs to go visit the _surprise_.”

“What was it ?”, Lambert asks and dreads the answer.

“A brothel.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. I mean the workers, they didn't mind, welcomed us happily. The oldest boys got to pick first and we had to wait. I was one of the last to pick and I chose Jonah. He was older than me, an omega in his late thirties and I had a good time and I learned how to make sure that he had one too. I spent all the nights of my harvest week with him.”

“Did you fall in love with him ?”, Lambert asks stupidly.

Coën chuckles unhappily.

“I wasn't in love but definitely infatuated. I mean he was the first adult who showed me a good time, you know. On the last night of the harvest week, I told him that I'd train hard to gain the right to visit the brothel during the year and come see him. He smiled and kissed me goodbye in the morning.”

“I thought that you couldn't visit during the year ?”

“That's for the younger ones. Once you go through your first harvest and discover the brothel, you can win the right to visit as a reward for your hard work. It motivated us. It took me six months to be allowed to come back and as soon as I stepped into the brothel, the younger workers all crowded me. I asked about Jonah though and I was told that he hang himself two months prior.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Lambert swears and squeezes Coën's hand in support, “Why ?”

“Because he didn't feel useful anymore.”

“What ?”, Lambert asks, puzzled.

“I asked around and since he had had me, no one had shown him any interest. The proper witchers or the mages or the trainees who had visited had all been interested in the younger ones. And that was how the brothel worked, the old ones got put aside slowly and Jonah couldn't bear it. He had been given to the brothel since he arrived and since he was a kid he had been told that his sole purpose was to _please_ the witchers. And when he got ignored, he felt as if he didn't have a purpose anymore, so he hang himself.”

“That's sick.”

“And it wasn't just the brothel. The kids chosen to stay human, they were sorted on arrival. The pretty ones to the brothel, the sturdy ones to the fields, the others to the day-to-day tasks and they were all taught to think that they only lived to serve us in whatever means necessary. I was so disgusted when I learned how the system worked that I refused to set a foot into the human part of the castle anymore, got beaten until I agreed to help with the harvest again and avoided the brothel at all costs after that. So seeing omegas and alphas can sometimes bring back bad memories.”

“Fuck mages,” Lambert proclaims, “And _fuck witchers_.”

“ _Fuck witchers_ ,” Coën agrees.

“Will you be comfortable with me around then ?”, Lambert finally asks after a few seconds of silence.

“Yeah,” Coën says, “I mean I thought you were a beta for years and you're certainly not brain-washed to attend to my every needs. We'll be fine.”

“Good. I'm sorry if I brought back horribles memories up.”

“Don't worry,” Coën says and pries his hand away from Lambert's, “I think that I'll go to bed now, not really feeling in the mood to continue drinking.”

Lambert hums, pats Coën on the shoulder and settles his own bedroll next to Coën's. He's almost sure that his friend will have nightmares tonight and as Lambert feels like it's his fault, he wants to do his utmost to prevent them or at least to be there to wake Coën should he need it.

He falls asleep before Coën and is indeed woken up by pained whimpers a few hours later. He lets out a sigh and shakes Coën awake before tugging him towards his chest when the Griffin tries to roll away. Coën can be a stubborn idiot when he wants, but Lambert is bullheaded enough that he wins this round and silently comforts his friend until he falls back asleep. _Fuck witchers indeed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And have some more witcher trauma...  
> See you soon!!


	15. Chapter 15

Lambert actually stays with Coën for two more days, just to make sure that his friend is indeed fine. When they end up sloshed again on the first night after their conversation and with a rooster they won over a game of gwent, Lambert feels like everything is back to rights.

So he lingers for another day, just to enjoy his friend's company and leaves the next day after an animated debate over the rooster's ownership. Lambert is so glad he manages to leave the damn crowing nuisance to Coën and they part after one last long hug with the promise to try to catch each other up the next year in Sodden.

Lambert then slowly heads back east towards Aiden. He takes his time, stops to take care of different contracts and visits several markets. He's a bit frantic by the time he reaches Ellander and curses himself because he's probably only a few days away from Aiden and he still hasn't found another piece of jewelry for the alpha.

He peruses every jewelry stand from all the markets he comes across but nothing stands out. There are a few torques, but Lambert doesn't want to buy a second one, and rings of all sorts that just make him think about his brothers. And he doesn't want to have to be reminded of Geralt and Eskel when he's with Aiden.

He finally finds what he's looking for in a small market taking place in a trading town near the mountains. He accidentally stumbles upon a stand held by a woman and his eyes are immediately drawn to her wares. She's selling all kinds of delicate jewelry, some even elvish if he's not mistaken, and after he dismisses the rings and torques, he spots some ear cuffs.

An ear cuff isn't really traditional as far as alpha jewelry goes, but it's not exactly reserved to omegas either and has the added benefit to not remind Lambert of his family. He stares at the ear cuffs and the woman pushes forward the gold and silver ones. They're all beautiful but as soon as Lambert asks for their prices, he knows that he will not be able to afford them.

The woman nods and gets out some copper and bronze pieces instead. He doesn't like the copper ones, but the bronze would compliment Aiden's torque well. The woman only has two such pieces and she warily hands them to him to get a closer look.

He discards the first one immediately, Aiden would need to pierce his ear to wear it and he doesn't know if he'd be amenable to do it. The second one is a small cuff that just needs to be slipped onto the ear. The cuff is made from two thin double line rings placed under two crisscrossed rings. It is supposed to be worn at the top of the ear and can be slightly adjusted so as not to fall off. It's perfect.

Lambert haggles with the woman for the ear cuff and leaves with an almost empty purse. Maybe going on a drinking binge with Coën for two weeks hadn't been his smartest idea, but he certainly feels like it was worth it.

He travels for another week before he finally finds Aiden in a small mountain village. The Cat is calmly drinking a mug of ale in a tavern and he smiles when he spots Lambert coming his way. Lambert smiles back and hugs him.

"Took you long enough," Aiden comments as he sits back down.

"Yeah, well, I had things to do, people to see."

" _You_ saw Coën."

"No," Lambert defensively grumbles because he knows that Aiden will laugh at him for the shit he got up to with the Griffin.

"So what did you do ? You still have all your hair and all your teeth, which is good. And you're not being followed by a half-dog half-wolf animal you won in a bet, which is more than I was expecting from you."

"Shut up. That was once."

"Yeah and it already was one time too many."

"Totally Coën's fault," Lambert grumbles and asks for an ale too.

Aiden adds two slices of blueberrie pies to his order and Lambert thanks him gratefully for the gift and relishes the treat. They stay sitting until their mugs are empty and Aiden asks for two more slices of pie to take with them on the road.

"You are the best," Lambert tells him as they go up their horses and leave at a trot. 

"I know," Aiden agrees with a smirk, "You keep telling me that every year at the same time."

Lambert huffs and leads the way out of the small town they had found themselves in. They head north in the mountains because Aiden had heard about necrophages causing trouble, and Lambert nods and follows the Cat's directions.

They stop in a clearing in the evening and Lambert goes hunting while Aiden sets up camp. He comes back two hours later with a deer and some blueberries he had to take his shirt off to collect and bring back.

Aiden shakes his head at him when he comes back and helps him put the meat over the fire. They settle next to the pit into the dusk light and Lambert rummages through his bag to get his gift out.

"I've got something for you," he tells Aiden and curses when he finds the jar full of algae that made him loopy and not the ear cuff, "Two somethings actually."

"If you brought me some of Coën's hair, I can already tell you that I don't want it."

"That was _once_ , and I still don't know when the jerk had the time to hide it into my bag," Lambert grumbles before letting out a small sound of triumph when his hand finds the small box the woman had put the ear cuff in.

"What is it ?", Aiden asks with a pleased grin.

"That is algae that can make us high," Lambert grins back and jingles the jar.

“Only you,” Aiden sighs.

"And this one you need to open to find out,” Lambert grins and hands him the small box.

Aiden eagerly takes the small box and shakes it. Lambert makes a pained noise when he hears the ear cuff rattle inside the box and Aiden stops what he is doing.

“Did I just break it ?”, he asks sheepishly.

“I fucking hope not, you moron,” Lambert mutters, “Stop playing and open it already.”

Aiden nods and opens the box slowly.

“Oh, you got me another piece of jewelry,” Aiden whispers and lifts his free hand to stroke the torque still adorning his neck.

“You don't like it ?”, Lambert asks, worried.

“I like it, I just wasn't expecting it. I mean, you already got me a torque, you didn't have to buy me a second piece of jewelry.”

Lambert rolls his eyes and pushes his finger into Aiden's chest.

“I wanted to gift it to you. And if you allow me to stay during more of your ruts, I'll get you more jewelry. Because that is what decent partners do and what you _fucking deserve_.”

Aiden is blushing by the end of his tirade and Lambert soon ends up with a lapful of wiggling happy Cat witcher. He kisses Aiden as soon as he can and only stops to slip the ear cuff in its place. And if he spends several minutes kissing and licking and nibbling on Aiden's right ear, well his lover certainly isn't complaining and the evening ends in the most pleasurable way.

They actually don't separate for the rest of summer and the whole of autumn. They comb Ellander from south to north before slowly making their way back to Kaedwen and Aiden's bog. They don't find a lot of lucrative contracts, but there's enough for them to live comfortably and to save some coin to buy the necessities Aiden will need to go through the winter.

The Cat doesn't ask him again if Lambert wants to spend the winter with him and Lambert doesn't broach the subject. He thinks that he'd like it if it weren't for his heat. He already is uncomfortable having it in Kaer Morhen, he's pretty sure he'd go into a full blown panic experiencing it outside of the keep's sturdy walls.

So Lambert spends his last few weeks of autumn stealing some vegetables into fields and dragging them through a bog, hunting and drying meat and reparing the roof of Aiden's house. He stays as long as he safely can and leaves after the Cat entices him into one last round of frantic morning sex.

“I'll miss you,” Aiden tells him as Lambert prepares himself to leave.

“Miss you too,” Lambert answers and kisses Aiden one last time, “I'll see you in spring.”

“You better.”

Lambert hums and wonders if Aiden will invite him back for his rut. They haven't talked about it yet and the Cat doesn't seem to be in a hurry to speak about it and Lambert doesn't dare bring it up, lest Aiden feels pressured to ask him. So Lambert lingers for a few more minutes and when it doesn't seem like Aiden will say anything on the subject, he sighs, hugs his lover one last time and leads his horse into the cold water.

“Hey, Lambert !”, Aiden calls after him after a few seconds.

Lambert turns back gingerly and keeps an eye on his surroundings even as he wants to be able to gaze upon Aiden's smiling face freely.

“Come back for my rut next year ?”, Aiden yells at him.

“You're an asshole,” Lambert shouts back, because he's sure that Aiden waited so long to ask him just to see him squirm, “I'll be there.”

“Already looking forward to it. Love you.”

Lambert stumbles and almost falls face first into the bog at Aiden's parting words. It's the first time that he's said that he loves him and Lambert wonders if he should say it back. Won't it seem forced ? But when he turns back towards Aiden's small dry patch of land, still unsure about how to react, the Cat is nowhere to be seen. Lambert frowns, shakes his head and stubbornly steps forward, it seems that he'll have some things to ponder this winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit on the short side, sorry.  
> Next chapter should be longer...


	16. Chapter 16

Lambert is lucky that the snow is late in coming this year. By the time he reaches Kaer Morhen, he only has seen a few snowflakes and so the climb up is rather easy despite his delay. He lets out a contented sigh when he enters the keep's courtyard and heads for the stables. He takes his time settling his horse next to his brothers' and heads for the kitchen when he's done. If he's not mistaken, the others must be eating supper and he's looking forward to a hot meal.

His stomach rumbles when his nose catches the first whiffs of food and he pushes the kitchen's door open with a grunt. His brothers, Jaskier and Vesemir all look up when he enters and smile at him. He drops his packs next to the door and goes to hug his family and clap the bard's shoulder so as not to exclude him. Eskel hands him a plate of stew and some bread and Geralt fills his glass with wine. Lambert grunts his thanks and tucks in. 

"Good year ?", Eskel asks him when he's done.

"Yeah. It was nice."

"Oh, so for once you have money to lose over the winter ?", Geralt smirks at him.

"Not really," Lambert says with a frown, "My purse is rather empty."

"Hopeless," Vesemir grunts with a roll of his eyes.

"Hey ! Not my damn fault."

He could blame Coën and Aiden for the state of his purse, because he feels like they're totally at fault here. Not that he will do it in front of his family, he doesn't want to begin the winter with a confrontation about his friends' existence.

"So what made it a good year ?", Geralt asks.

"I found some algae that can make us high."

The silence is deafening.

" _Hopeless_ ," Vesemir grunts again.

"Did you bring some back ?", Jaskier wonders, clearly interested.

"No, used everything before coming."

He had convinced Aiden to get high with him before he left and it had been glorious. They had been so relaxed and at ease inhaling the fire's fumes. And they had gladly used it all.

"Where did you find it ?", Jaskier asks him.

"At the coast. In Temeria. It looked like some light greenish tendrils."

"Uh, I'm pretty sure that it's supposed to be poisonous," Jaskier comments.

"Really ?", Lambert says, "Because apart from some mild constipation, it didn't do any harm."

"Lambert," Eskel sighs, exasperated, "Why did you eat it then ?"

"I mostly inhaled it actually,” Lambert explains and hastily adds under his brother's glare, “Because it was fun. I mean, a constipation is easily cured by eating raw meat for a day."

Four disgusted groans answer him.

"Fuck," Geralt curses, "It's like the damn mushrooms all over again."

"They were tasty !", Lambert exclaims.

"And your piss was brown for two days too," Vesemir points out, "So no mushrooms and no algae anymore, you hopeless fool."

Lambert grumbles about the totally unfair decision but has to concede that his mentor probably isn't wrong. And he had perfectly been aware that the algae would have been confiscated if he got home with it and disposed of it accordingly, he'll just have to go back to Temeria without his brothers or Vesemir if he ever wants to play with the algae again.

Lambert then asks about the others' years but they don't have overly exciting stories to share, so he abandons them to go down to the hot springs. He enjoys a nice soak and is glad to finally find his room and his bed again. He missed comfort.

He doesn't think about Aiden's parting words for a few days - is used to not thinking about him at all during winter - but his _love you_ quickly comes back to haunt him while he works on some stupid repairs or when he lies awake in his bed or when he lounges in the hot springs. It's annoying.

And the worst of it is that he doesn't know how he himself ought to feel, doesn't even know if he loves Aiden back – he really likes him, of that he is at least sure – and what he's supposed to do _if_ he loves him. Jaskier finds him in such a contemplative state one afternoon in the hot springs and stares at him in silence before loudly clearing his throat.

"What are you thinking so hard about ?", the bard asks him.

Lambert, who's submerged up to his nose, growls into the water and hope that the bubbles he makes seem angry enough to make Jaskier drop the subject.

"Okay. Fine. Keep your secrets. Did you know that I wrote a new song this summer ? Let me entertain you !"

And the damn man proceeds to sing. Lambert grunts again, but lets him be, better he be singing than asking stupid questions. The others ignore his mood for the first month but Lambert can feel their considering stares on his back and he knows that it won't be long before they come demanding answers. Answers Lambert isn't sure he can give them.

The status quo holds for a month. And then one evening when Lambert settles across Vesemir at the kitchen table with the dice while Eskel, Geralt and Jaskier disappear upstairs, the old Wolf gets a pie out of a cupboard and some White Gull. Vesemir steals the dice, pockets them under Lambert's defensive stare and gives him half the pie. _Fuck,_ he thinks, _it's going to be a worse conversation that the one they had two years ago_.

"You're moping," Vesemir says.

"I'm not !", Lambert angrily retorts.

"Yes you are. And if even Geralt commented on it, then it's quite obvious. So what is bothering you ?"

Lambert grunts petulantly and takes a bite of the pie, it's actually quite good.

"Is it Jaskier again ? Or the fact that Geralt, Eskel and Jaskier are discussing mating bites ?"

"What ?", Lambert asks loudly as he whips his head around to stare at the old Wolf.

"They didn't tell you."

"I don't care," Lambert says between clenched teeth and too fast to be honest.

He doesn't know how to feel about that actually. Not that it's any of his business really, and he wouldn't dare comment on their choice unless they asked for his opinion, but this means that Jaskier will definitely become a steady presence in Kaer Morhen, he'll be _family._ And as awful as it sounds, Lambert doesn't really want him to become family.

He feels like shit now. He knows that he should be glad his brothers are happy, but he just can't muster any enthusiasm for it. And he now understands why Geralt and Eskel didn't tell him.

"If it's not your brothers mating, then what is bothering you ?", Vesemir perseveres.

"Nothing," Lambert insists and finishes his drink.

Vesemir immediately fills his mug again and Lambert glares at him, he knows exactly what the old Wolf is trying to do here. The most infuriating thing is that it works, it takes him an hour to finally cave.

"I miss Aiden," he whispers at the table.

Vesemir makes some sort of weird choking sound at that and Lambert stubbornly keeps his eyes on the table, he doesn't need to see the pity he's sure to find on his mentor's face.

"Aiden ? Your witcher friend ? That Aiden ?", Vesemir checks.

"I only know one Aiden," Lambert snarks back.

"Right, and you miss him because ?"

Lambert shrugs.

"I just miss him, okay ? No fucking reason."

Vesemir sighs.

"You know that you could bring him here if you miss him that much."

"I could ?", Lambert wonders and finally raises his head to make sure Vesemir isn't making fun of him.

"Geralt brought Jaskier, Eskel brought his goat, you can bring your friend. Friends even, the other one, Coën, he'd be welcome too."

"Did you just compare Jaskier and Aiden to Lil' Bleater ?"

"They come here, eat out of my pantry and don't do much, they're exactly the same," Vesemir grumbles, "And I have no hope left that your friend will turn out to be any better."

"You're a horrible old man," Lambert says.

"I know. Now, dice ? Loser cooks tomorrow."

"Sure," Lambert agrees.

Lambert loses. Horribly. He's almost sure that the dice are rigged though, he just needs to prove it, which he can't do as drunk as he is. And he has such a bad hungover on the morrow that he doesn't manage to find the patience to check the dice.

To be fair, he doesn't manage to do much. Dinner is horrendous and they end up eating a quickly put together and somewhat burned omelette. He makes an effort for supper though and prepares a hearty vegetables soup into which he dumps some lard and the rest of the rice Jaskier brought with him.

His brothers and Vesemir eye his mixture warily, while Jaskier just hums over the simmering cooking pot and remarks that it smells good. Everyone relaxes once they take the first bite and they find out that it's quite good. Even Lambert is a bit impressed by his own skill. He waits until the end of the meal, just as Geralt, Eskel and Jaskier rise to leave, to open his mouth.

“I hear that congratulations are in order,” Lambert says, tone completely flat and face hard.

Geralt guiltily looks at Eskel, who gapes and looks at Jaskier, who winces and accusingly points his finger towards his brothers and Lambert in turn. They're pathetic. He had hoped that by broaching the subject, they could avoid letting it fester, but clearly no one wants to say anything to him.

“Fuck you,” Lambert grunts and gets up.

Vesemir catches his arm before he can get out of the kitchen and the old Wolf tugs him back towards the table. Lambert fights him, because he's not in the mood to humor him, but ends up sitting at his place at the table with his arm painfully twisted behind his back.

“You two, sit the fuck down,” Vesemir growls at his brothers, who hasten to comply.

The old Wolf then orders Jaskier to fetch three cups and some mead and only lets him go when they're all served.

“Now, you three idiots are going to talk about that and get rid of the damn painful awkwardness, you understand me ?”

They all unconvincingly mutter their agreement.

“Me and Jaskier are going to the library,”

“Am I ?”, Jaskier asks and winces when Vesemir glares at him, “I am.”

“And if you get out of this kitchen before everything is settled, you're going to end up locked outside tomorrow until you speak together.”

Vesemir then squeezes all of their shoulders and drags Jaskier out of the room. He pointedly catches all of their eyes one last time before firmly closing the door behind him.

“Fuck,” Lambert sighs and wishes that he had kept his mouth shut.

Nobody actually says anything for the first hour. They fidget at the table, sometimes clear their throats only for nothing to come out, it's beyond frustrating. Eskel fills their cups after a while and they finish the first cask of mead before even exchanging a few words. Lambert sighs and fetches another cask in the pantry.

"You're mating," Lambert states when he comes back.

Geralt fucking grunts at him like the caveman he is, and Lambert kicks his shin in annoyance. Eskel just sighs.

"We're still discussing a few things, but that is what we want."

"Good. Congratulations," Lambert harshly says.

"You don't exactly sound happy," Eskel points out.

"I fucking don't care what the three of you do together. As long as no one asks me to mate with them, we're all good."

Eskel offers him a tight smile and shakes his head.

"I can assure you that it didn't even cross our minds."

"You don't like Jaskier," Geralt then bluntly intervenes.

Lambert doesn't answer and guiltily averts his eyes.

"See, that is why we didn't tell you," Eskel says.

"Because keeping it quiet and letting me discover it the morning you come down seemed like a better idea ?", Lambert sneers.

"Okay, fine, we fucked up," Eskel mutters, "But _you_ could make an effort with Jaskier too."

" _I am_ making a damn effort," Lambert angrily retorts, "And if I wasn't, you'd fucking know it."

Threy all end up standing and glaring at each other across the table and Lambert plops back down unto his seat.

"I don't care if you decide to mate with him," Lambert repeats and forces himself to stay calm, "I'll accept him as your mate, I'll protect him if it ever comes to that, because you like him, but we're probably never going to be the best of friends and expecting that from me is just fucking selfish from you."

"Fuck," Eskel mutters, "Sorry."

Eskel and Geralt both sit back down too and frown at the table like they don't know what is happening anymore.

"I love him," Geralt then intervenes stupidly once again and explains further after Lambert makes an inquiring sound, "You said like, and I love him, like I love Eskel."

"Good for you," Lambert says and toats him, "Now if you can convince him to stop poking his nose into my business, I may be able to like him someday too."

"He's not trying to be mean," Geralt says like it's an _excuse._

"He's not trying to be mean," Lambert parrots sarcastically, "He's still an annoying _twat_."

"He can be that too," Geralt agrees with a smile.

"We'll talk to him," Eskel smiles at him, "Make him understand that he needs to stop badgering you."

"Thanks. On the same note, if you three could stop disappearing six evenings out of seven to fuck and instead stay with Vesemir and I, it might help with the whole building a decent relationship with him thing," Lambert says in an accusing tone.

Eskel winces and Geralt looks up at the ceiling with such a satisfied smirk on his face that Lambert gags. Loudly and obnoxiously. 

"We'll take your advice into account," Eskel says with a straight face.

"Good," Lambert nods, "Now if we're done here, _I_ am going to bed and _you_ are going to spend the evening with Vesemir so the old man doesn't feel left out."

"What about you trying to build a relationship with Jaskier ?", Eskel asks him as he gets up and jogs to the door.

"It can wait tomorrow," Lambert answers with a mean smirk, "Two evenings of socialization won't kill you."

He leaves his sputtering brothers behind him and goes up to his room with a spring in his step feeling like he just got one over them. It's one of the best feelings in the world.


	17. Chapter 17

Lambert's brothers actually follow through their promise. The three of them stay down with Vesemir and him three evenings out of seven and it is certainly better than what Lambert was expecting of them. Furthermore Jaskier stops following him around and asking stupid noisy questions, and the bard makes a more genuine effort to know him during the evenings they spend together.

His and Jaskier's interactions seem less forced and they manage to share a proper conversation about the worst rhymes they ever had the displeasure to hear two weeks after Lambert's uncomfortable talk with his brothers. Lambert counts it as progress.

He finds out that the bard can be rather nice too. Lambert already knew that he could talk anybody's ear off, he did it enough to _him_ already, but when the man tries to appeal to his audience, he's a fantastic conversation partner. He can go on for hours talking about the way monsters are stupidly depicted in popular songs with Eskel, or about his worse cooking mishaps with Vesemir, and he even manages to good naturedly rile Geralt up talking about the colourful or dangerous people he met during his travels. Lambert has to concede that it is rather fun to watch.

He's more careful about Lambert too. Jaskier is clearly making an effort, and Lambert wonders how his brothers finally managed to get him to _listen to them_ , and the bard carefully chooses the topics he speaks about with him. He tends to concentrate on funny anecdotes, weirdest things they ate or stupidest thing they've done because they lost a bet, and only once do they argue about politics.

Lambert doesn't even remember how they ended up talking about the relations between nobles and the smallfolk, but their points of view clearly aren't the same. Lambert thinks that nobles mostly are shit and the world would be better off without them, whereas Jaskier, even if he concedes that some of them are horrible morons, defends the nobility and its role fiercely.

They finally decide to let the topic go, because they clearly will never see eye to eye on the subject. They tersely nod at each other at the end of the conversation and toast themselves under the others' watchful stares. Then Jaskier goes back to Geralt to speak about a set of triplets he allegedly got high and frisky with in his youth, and Lambert keeps a distracted eye on that conversation – watching Geralt squirm and his face go redder with each new detail the bard adds is fucking entertaining – while he horribly loses at dice to Vesemir. He really needs to check those dice to see if they're rigged.

So when Eskel goes into rut, their peaceful arrangement comes to an abrupt end and Lambert is left floundering in the aftermath. He doesn't have the time to come to terms with the fact that Eskel is going into rut, meaning that his own heat is fast approaching, before he finds out that his eldest brother had been under suppressants to delay his rut for a week, and Geralt and Jaskier go into rut and heat exactly a day after him.

Lambert stupidly stares at the three _utter idiots_ when they come down to breakfast already smelling like rut and heat, and wonders why nobody told him what they were planning. With the three of them occupied, he'll have to actually enter their room to make sure that they drink and eat instead of leaving everything in front of the door for one of them to collect like usual, because he wouldn't trust any them in their altered state of mind to remember to actually fetch the food. _Fuck. He doesn't want to see them like that._

Moreover he can only hope that having two alphas in rut sharing the same omega won't turn out to be too much for Jaskier to bear, and that the three of them won't end up hurt. There was a reason Geralt and Eskel never synched their ruts together – alphas in rut don't mesh well together – and Lambert hopes that they know what they are doing, he's not looking forward to collect the pieces of their relationship if they don't. And by the constipated face Vesemir is wearing, he isn't overjoyed by that idea either.

Eskel, Geralt and Jaskier seem totally oblivious to their concerns though and cuddle and nuzzle each other disgustingly over breakfast. By the end of the day, they still haven't approached Lambert or Vesemir about their oncoming heat and ruts, and Lambert is almost sure now that they didn't actually think about it. _They're such morons._

And as Lambert doesn't know how to broach the subject, his brothers and Jaskier are so taken with each other that it's a miracle they even are thinking about eating and drinking on their own for now, nobody actually brings the problem up.

So on Eskel's first day of rut, Lambert goes up to his brother's room with his usual food supplies, only to find the room empty. He grumbles and curses and heads for Geralt's room. He knocks and waits until someone tells him what to do. Luckily for him Geralt opens the door, grunts something that Lambert chooses to interpret as a heartfelt thank you and carefully takes the food and drinks from his hands. Lambert quickly disappears after that.

The same happens at dinner and supper and Lambert spends an awful night tossing and turning thinking about what is going to happen on the morrow. He's still pleasantly surprised when Geralt or Jaskier open the door for him, albeit in the nude, and shoves their damn supplies at them quickly so that he can escape this nightmare.

Things go to shit on the third day. Eskel is on his last day of rut while Geralt and Jaskier are on their second, and Lambert isn't even surprised when only Eskel answers him when he knocks on their door to let them know that he's here. He ends up standing like an idiot in the hallway for ten minutes, listening to Eskel trying to coax Jaskier and Geralt under some blankets. Sadly his brother doesn't seem to be in luck.

“Just get the fuck in,” Eskel finally sighs, defeated, “And look at the ceiling if it bothers you that much.”

“Asshole,” Lambert mutters.

He opens the door, looks at said ceiling and trips over one of his brothers' boots. He barely manages to save the tea and scowls at Eskel when he straightens. Eskel doesn't even turn back towards him to make sure that he's fine, because he's busy keeping Jaskier and Geralt covered, which leaves Lambert dealing with a view of his brother's backside, and he hurries to the table to put everything down.

He ends up dealing with their chamberpot too, for which they'll owe him until the end of their days, and disappears into the stables to brood in peace once he's done. The worst happens at dinner, when Eskel makes Lambert walk in into Jaskier enthusiastically blowing Geralt while being knotted by Eskel. Lambert curses at the display and hurries out of the room as soon as he can.

Supper by contrast is uneventful, with the three of them quietly dozing under a blanket. Lambert still has enough time to notice that they've mated, the bites clearly visible on the side of each of their necks. He doesn't comment, barely makes a sound as he drops off the food supplies on the table and heads back out and downstairs to enjoy his own supper with Vesemir.

On the last day of Geralt's rut and Jaskier's heat, Eskel, who's done, opens the door and takes care of everything as usual again. When they come back down during breakfast on the next day, they all look disgustingly happy and nobody acts like Lambert saw or did something he shouldn't have, and he finally allows himself to relax, glad he didn't cross any limits.

Lambert then enjoys a few calm days and lazes around in the hot springs or next to the library fire when he has the time, before his own heat hits. He wakes up with the damn itch under his skin one morning and does his best to avoid everyone. His avoidance tactic works well until Vesemir corners him in the hot springs in the evening and drags him to the kitchen by the ear like he's some kind of unruly little kid.

Lambert kicks his mentor's shin once he frees his ear and takes his place at the table with his features contorted into such a scowl that Jaskier, who's sitting in front of him, recoils slightly when he sits down. The fact that he's hyper aware of everyone and that his hand just seems to always creep towards Vesemir's wrist when he's not focusing on keeping it at his side doesn't improve his mood in the slightest.

“Oh for fuck's sake,” Vesemir grumbles after the third time Lambert hastily takes his hand back.

The old Wolf then leaves his seat at the head of the table and plops down on the bench next to Lambert instead. He extends his hand and Lambert places it on his back without a word, it feels really nice. They let him finish his supper in peace before Eskel clears his throat and Lambert narrows his eyes at him.

“I'm not sharing my heat with any of you,” he says through clenched teeth.

“That's...”, Eskel starts.

“I'm not,” Lambert says louder and doesn't let his brother finish his sentence, “I'm not desperate enough to ask for someone who is mated to cheat on his partners.”

“It wouldn't be cheating,” Jaskier mutters under his breath like everybody can't hear him.

“I. Am. Not. Sharing,” Lambert repeats and crosses his arms over his chest defensively.

“Good,” Geralt intervenes and nods, “But we just wanted to _ask_ what you wanted us to do during your heat. We're not trying to change your mind here.”

“You're not ?”, Lambert dubiously asks.

Eskel, Geralt and Jaskier all shake their heads and Lambert intently stares at them. _That is new_. New but appreciated. He just wonders what made them change their minds about badgering him, they sure as hell didn't hesitate to do it last year.

“Is it a trick ?”, he asks again and tightens his hold on his cutlery, the knife is ending in someone's _thigh_ if it happens that they're trying to manipulate him.

“Fuck,” Eskel sighs, “It's not a trick, we're not that kind of assholes.”

Lambert snorts and nods at him to go on.

“It was brought to our attention that we never really asked you what _you_ wanted, and that we should stop trying to force you to do something we think is best for you instead of listening to you.”

Vesemir slightly squirms at Lambert's side and he knows who talked some sense into the three idiots' heads, he might have to thank him later, if it turns out his method worked.

“Well, good, then I'm not sharing,” Lambert repeats, “End of discussion.”

Jaskier looks like he wants to continue said discussion, but Vesemir only has to clear his throat once for the man to snap his mouth shut. Lambert badly needs to learn how to do that. They don't bother him on the next day either, and Lambert feels at ease enough to agree to a cuddle session in the library with Eskel and Geralt. He spends his afternoon dozing on his brothers' chests, weirdly wonders if Aiden's chest would be better or not and quickly decides that he doesn't want to think about it.

They let him go without a word after supper and the gesture is exactly what he was waiting for. It allows him to relax completely despite the lack of warm body at his side and he falls asleep relatively easily. His heat is still bothersome and uncomfortable and excruciating, but his brothers' acceptance of his wants makes it easier to bear than the year before.

They don't coddle him and don't try to pressure him into accepting them into his bed, and Lambert allows them to feed him and to check on him without a fuss in exchange. He lets himself succumb to the need on his second day of heat with considerably less fear than the year before and is glad to wake up alone in a clean bed with a still chained but newly bandaged wrist and ankle.

This new way of doing things they're testing may be quite different than what they had before, but Lambert finds that he can live with it. And after his lonely heat, Lambert lets himself be tugged into his brothers' and Vesemir's arms and enjoys some nice long cuddling sessions to make up for the fact that he spent his heat alone. His behaviour seems to placate even Jaskier, who looked a bit on edge when Lambert joined them for breakfast in the morning, and soon his heat is only a bad memory he is happy to forget.

It takes him only a few more days to grow restless. He soon starts to check his bags, sharpen his blades and exercise his horse, and he goes out on the battlements at least twice a day to stare at the snow and will it away. It doesn't work and to his utter dismay, the weather stays cold far longer than the previous years and the snow stubbornly clings to the path out of Kaer Morhen.

So Lambert takes to pace the empty hallways of the keep until someone drags him off to the great hall to spar for a little bit. It doesn't calm him and he just can't get the fact that Aiden is waiting for him out of his mind. By the time that Vesemir announces that the passes are probably practicable again, Lambert estimates that he's three weeks late already.

The morning after Vesemir's announcement, Lambert is in a fairly bad mood, upset at himself and at the damn uncooperative weather, and he swallows his breakfast down in two minutes. He barely says goodbye to the others inhabitants of the keep and saddles his horse quickly and efficiently.

He's out of Kaer Morhen at first light. The trip down the mountain is still a difficult one and Lambert has to trudge through some thigh-high snow banks several times on his way down. Then he has to contend with the Kaedweni roads which are still soaked, bumpy and overall a pain to travel on.

He's also forced to stop in one of the villages he passes through, because the alderman begs him to take care of their monster problem. The man looks so desperate that Lambert agrees to look into it and it takes him another two days to dispose of the damn kikimora he finds near the village. And because Destiny has apparently decided that Lambert isn't miserable enough, the villagers are unable to pay him.

Lambert curses them and curses the bad winter they had to go through too and asks for some candles, soaps and the food supplies they can safely spare as payment. He leaves the village with five candles, two bars of soap, fifteen potatoes, one small cabbage and three pots of home made quince jelly. It's better than what Lambert expected.

So by the time Lambert reaches Aiden's bog, he's almost sure that he missed the Cat's rut. At best he can hope to catch him on his post-rut days, and he might even be too late to offer him comfort through that. He crosses the bog at dusk and hurries across the expanse of water. He's lucky enough not to meet one of Aiden's pests and heads for the stables as soon as he reaches dry land.

He finds Aiden's horse stabled and scratches her ears. He then takes care of his own mount who deserves to be pampered after the rough journey she just had to endure. He brushes his mount, checks her hooves, puts a blanket over her back and finds some oats and hay to give her. He then fills a bucket of water, brings it back to the stables and pats her flanks one last time before turning back around.

“Hey,” Aiden's voice rises up from the darkness outside.

Lambert startles and reflexively draws one of his daggers before he registers that the voice belongs to his host. He sheathes the blade back with a grunt and Aiden enters the stables with a smug smirk on his lips. Lambert can't detect any rut scent on him and knows that he is definitely too late.

“Don't do that,” he grumbles and takes a step forward to tug the Cat into his arms.

“But I like startling you.”

“Asshole,” Lambert grunts and then adds softly, “I'm sorry.”

“For ?”, Aiden asks like he really doesn't know what Lambert has to be sorry for.

“For being late. I missed your rut, didn't I ?”

“Oh, I thought that you weren't interested to do it again and that was why you didn't come.”

“Stupid,” Lambert whispers and knocks their foreheads together, “I wanted to come. The weather didn't agree with me though. I'm sorry you had to be alone on your rut.”

“It was fine,” Aiden says and shrugs, “Nothing I didn't go through before.”

“Still sorry. Let me make it up to you ?”

“Oh, what did you have in mind ?”, Aiden asks him with sparkling eyes and a playful smirk.

“I've got some fresh vegetables for a soup in my bags,” Lambert says with a smirk of his own.

“I love you,” Aiden grins and kisses him, “Fresh soup is even better than all of my wildest fantasies.”

Lambert steals another kiss because he can and makes Aiden carry his bags to the house. He still doesn't say _I love you_ back, even if he thinks that it won't be long before he'll be able to say it too, and follows the Cat into the house. Lambert ends up preparing the stew under Aiden's hungry eyes and they enjoy a really pleasurable evening. He has to concede that he really did miss his Cat though and is sure that Aiden missed him too, if his clinginess is anything to go by.


	18. Chapter 18

Lambert's year goes by quickly and he doesn't see the time pass. He's a little bit disappointed when he doesn't find Coën in Sodden at the end of spring, but he's not overly concerned. They don't see each other each year and Lambert knows where the Griffin likes to hang out, he'll find him again soon enough.

His trip south isn't wasted though. He finds several pots of lemon jam that he buys for Aiden and a jar of pickled chestnuts he surreptitiously steals on a market. He then finds Aiden again near the moutains in Temeria right on time for the blueberry pies season to start and he bears the Cat's good-natured ribbing about the supposed price of their relationship with good grace.

A few months later, it's Lambert's turn to prick his fingertips collecting chestnuts and then burning his fingers preparing them for Aiden, but seeing the delighted look on the Cat's face at the end of the day is really worth it. And once autumn hits, they slowly make their way back north towards Aiden's bog.

Lambert doesn't know how to feel when they finally reach the Cat's house. He's glad they're back in safe territory and readily helps Aiden prepare for the winter, but at the same time he can't stop thinking about the fact that he'll need to leave him soon. And if he missed Aiden last year, he's sure that he'll miss him again this year too.

So he clings a bit more during the nights than usual, digs out of his bags one last pot of lemon jam he put aside in summer just to see Aiden smile at him and spends a day away out of the bog to hunt the biggest boar he can find and proudly presents it to the Cat when he comes back. Aiden grins when he sees the offering and lets Lambert butcher it and smoke it, while he provides unhelpful commentary. Lambert doesn't even dream of finding himself elsewhere.

And then just before Lambert knows that he'll need to leave if he wants to reach Kaer Morhen safely, Aiden presents him with a big jar of blueberry jam and uses it as filling for a pie, despite the fact that Lambert knows that the Cat hates preparing things more complicated than a stew. Lambert's _I love you_ easily slips from his lips between blueberry flavoured kisses. Aiden's smile is the happiest Lambert has ever seen.

Lambert is brushing his horse on the next day, preparing the mare for her journey back to Kaer Morhen when it dawns on him that he could just ask Aiden to come with him if he wants to. Vesemir will welcome him, he will not need to miss him and he'll be sure not to miss his rut this year, and if the gods are good, he might even get an apology from his brothers too. He stays still as he processes the idea, drops the brush after a few seconds and bolts towards the spring where he knows he'll find Aiden.

The Cat is indeed kneeling next to the spring, washing some rags they used to clean Aiden's furnitures in the morning and Lambert stops dead in his tracks when he spots him. Aiden turns back towards him when he hears him and gets to his feet when Lambert stays rooted into place.

“Lambert ?”, Aiden asks him and Lambert cringes because he sounds concerned, “What happened ? Are you alright ?”

“I... Uhm. I've wanted... That is to say that... Don't feel like you _have_ to say yes but... Maybe...”

“You're not making sense, Lambert,” Aiden sighs and places his cold hands over Lambert's cheeks and knocks their foreheads together, “Deep breaths, good. What are you trying to blabber about now ?”

“Will you come with me this year ?”, Lambert finally manages to say.

“Oh,” Aiden sighs like he can't believe Lambert just asked him that.

“To Kaer Morhen,” Lambert clarifies stupidly.

“I got that,” Aiden smiles at him, “What brought this on now ?”

“The blueberry pie,” Lambert says inadequatly and hopes that everything he doesn't manage to say gets through with these three simple words.

He squirms between the Cat's arms, aware that Aiden hasn't agreed to anything yet and closes his eyes and waits for his answer. Aiden chuckles and his cold hands slip under Lambert's shirt and tickle his side.

“I'll come with you if you'll have me,” Aiden finally whispers a hairsbreadth away from his lips.

The kiss they share next to that spring with their dirty rags abandonned nearby and Aiden's cool hands on his skin and the chilly air making them shiver is probably one of the sweetest of Lambert's life. They enjoy each other hurriedly right here and there and then again lazily over the rest of the afternoon and the evening in Aiden's small bed.

The panic sets in the next morning. As Lambert has delayed his departure again, they're on a tight schedule and Aiden needs time to pack his bags. They also have all the food supplies which were supposed to see the Cat through winter to contend with. Their two horses end up ladden way more heavily than usual and they actually have to leave some of Aiden's belongings behind to make everything fit.

They don't linger at Aiden's house once the horses are ready and head straight north. The journey is uneventful but by the time they go by Ard Carraigh, Aiden has worked himself into a tizzy and Lambert has to use all of his patience to assure him that a lack of gift won't be seen as a grievous offense and that nobody will even think about throwing him out of the keep because of it.

“They don't even believe that you exist,” Lambert tells him one evening as they're cuddling next to their fire, “So they're certainly not expecting a gift from you.”

“What do you mean they don't think I exist ?”, Aiden asks, offended, and squirms inside his nest of blankets to face Lambert with an unimpressed face.

“Uh, did I never tell you ? Eskel, Geralt and Jaskier think that I made you and Coën up.”

“But why would you do that ? That's stupid.”

“Thank you !”, Lambert exclaims, relieved, “Finally someone who understands me !”

“You know, the more I hear about your family, the more I think that they're idiots.”

Lambert can only hum in agreement.

Once Aiden is placated about the gift – he still manages to steal four big cabbages behind Lambert's back to offer to his family and tries to cram them as unobtrusively as possible into one of their packs, which is a disaster because everything is already full – Lambert can concentrate on the journey. Everything is fine until they're halfway up to Kaer Morhen and Lambert experiences his first doubts. He's not afraid of his family's reaction, he's sure that he made the right decision in inviting Aiden along, but the subject of his heat didn't even cross his mind until now.

They're huddling together for warmth and Lambert is longing for the keep while Aiden is cursing the weather, when it hits him that they're going to be locked up in Kaer Morhen together for months. And that at the end of these months waits his heat. He hasn't thought about it until now, hasn't invited Aiden because of it, but because he wants to keep him close, and wonders if he'll feel comfortable enough to invite him into his bed during his heat.

He likes to think that he will, but he's not sure, feels like he'll know for sure only when it'll hit, and he doesn't even know what Aiden is thinking about it. Is he waiting for Lambert to issue him an invitation ? Is he taking it for granted that he'll be present for it ? Will he be disappointed if Lambert tells him to get lost during his heat ? Or angry ? Or accomodating ? _Fuck, he has no idea and it's driving him mad._

Sleep eludes him for two nights while he seriously ponders the question and he finally broaches the subject just as they arrive in front of the gates of the keep. He holds Aiden back and ignores the whine the Cat lets out as he's being held back from the warmth that lies just a few steps away. Lambert clears his throat and Aiden turns back to him with a puzzled face.

“What ?”, Aiden asks him gently, “Don't tell me that you're getting cold feet now and that we have to go back down because of it. I might throw a damn tantrum.”

“What ? No. I... My heat will happen during winter.”

“Yes, Lambert, I know, as will my rut at the end of it,” Aiden says and then whines, “Can we go in now. My feet are freezing.”

“No, but you don't understand, _my heat will happen during winter_ ,” Lambert repeats urgently.

“Hey, don't panic now,” Aiden soothingly whispers and stops trying to tug him forward, “You didn't completely realize what inviting me would mean, did you ?”

“My heat,” Lambert says again and his breath is coming short.

“I know,” Aiden whispers and tugs him into his arms, “I know. And you'll do with your heat what _you want_. No pressure, no conditions, just your wants. You didn't invite me because of your heat, but because we love and respect each other, so if you tell me to get lost during your heat, I'll find another bed to sleep in for a few days. It's not a problem.”

Lambert melts between Aiden's arms at the soft reassurances.

“No expectations ?”, Lambert asks one last time because he needs to be sure.

“No expectations,” Aiden confirms, “Just your wants.”

“Just my wants,” Lambert softly repeats and adds firmly, “Your rut, your wants too.”

“I love you,” Aiden says against his cheek.

“I love you too,” Lambert says back easily and takes a hold of Aiden's right hand to tug him into Kaer Morhen's courtyard now that he's reassured.

Nobody comes out to greet them and they settle their horses next to Eskel and Geralt's ones in silence. Lambert then leads the way towards the keep and lets out a relieved sigh once they're inside. Aiden is slightly shivering at his side and he tugs him towards the kitchen where he hopes they'll find a fire and a warm meal.

They indeed find a fire and Vesemir stops cutting up vegetables and looks up at them when they enter. He slightly furrows his brows when he sees Aiden and turns an expectant face towards Lambert.

“Lambert, glad to see you in one piece,” Vesemir greets him.

“Vesemir,” Lambert sighs and goes up to him to hug him.

He then beckons Aiden closer and the two men shake hands.

“Aiden, meet Vesemir. Vesemir, my friend Aiden.”

“Nice to meet you, Aiden,” Vesemir says and spends a few seconds staring at him from head to toe, his gaze slightly lingering over Aiden's chest where his medallion is hidden under several layers of clothes.

Lambert grunts and Aiden fidgets, probably aware that he'll have to own up to his school sooner or later. Lambert sighs, glares at Vesemir who quietly returns to his cooking and he drags Aiden to the fire. The Cat sits on the floor and takes off his gloves to put his hands right next to the flames.

“Take off your cloack and coat too,” Lambert grunts at him, “And your second coat and maybe three of your five shirts. You're going to whine that you're too hot in two minutes otherwise.”

Vesemir snorts at them but keeps his eyes on the table and Lambert flips him off.

“Mother hen,” Aiden sighs as he starts to undress.

Meanwhile Lambert drops their packs on the table and starts to dig out the food they crammed in them. By the time Lambert is finishing up and digging around his shirts and pants for a few stray potatoes, Aiden is whining that he's too hot. Lambert rolls his eyes at the Cat and has to concede that getting out of his armour in the middle of the kitchen doesn't seem like a good idea and that a trip to his room might be in order before supper.

“You can take a trip upstairs to get out of your armours,” Vesemir says, “You can probably even squeeze a bath in before the meat and vegetables pies will be ready.”

Lambert nods, a bath sounds wonderful.

“Come on, Aiden,” Lambert says, “I'll show you around.”

He walks to the fire and tugs Aiden to his feet before handing him some of the packs to carry upstairs.

“Lambert,” Vesemir intervenes before they can disappear into the keep, “You might need to share tonight but we can prepare another room for your friend tomorrow.”

“Won't be necessary,” Lambert says and stalks out of the room so as not to see Vesemir's reaction, “We'll be sharing.”

He then leads Aiden upstairs, briefly points out the library and the armoury as they come across them and opens his room's door with a flourish. He lets Aiden get in first and fidgets in the doorway as the Cat looks around.

“It's not much,” Lambert says, “But you're welcome to it.”

“It's perfect,” Aiden smiles at him and drops his packs on the floor.

Almost an hour has passed by the time they slowly make their way back to the kitchen. Aiden still has a towel wrapped over his long hair to keep it from dripping water everywhere and they're pleasantly relaxed after a nice soak into the hot springs.

Lambert tenses up as soon as he opens the kitchen's door and he comes face to face with Eskel, Geralt and Jaskier puzzledly staring at the food they brought with them still laid out on the table. He introduces Aiden again and the greetings they exchange are polite if a bit tense.

The meal they share that evening is one of the most awful Lambert has ever attended. Vesemir sits at the head of the table, keeps his eyes on his plate and can't stop sighing, Aiden sits close next to Lambert and on the other side of the table, facing them, are his two brothers and Jaskier. They're not speaking either, probably too stunned by the fact that Lambert actually _has_ a friend, but they can't quite stop staring either.

Jaskier's gaze often ends up on Aiden's torque and ear cuff and his brow furrows like he can't believe what he's obviously seeing, Eskel's eyes are drawn to Aiden's chest where the shape of his medallion is barely visible under his shirt and Geralt furrows his brows each and every time Lambert's arm brushes Aiden's.

The Cat doesn't say anything, bears their attention with good grace, but Lambert is slowly getting fed up by his brothers and Jaskier's rude behaviours. _He_ hadn't been that bad the first year the bard had been invited, but apparently wishing his brothers would offer Lambert's guest the barest courtesy is too much to even hope for.

So as soon as they're done, Lambert tugs Aiden to his feet, says that the journey up the moutain exhausted them and leaves the kitchen and the assholes behind. He makes sure to slam the door on their way out and hopes that his displeasure is noticed by his brothers. He leads Aiden back to his room and apologizes for his family's behaviour.

“Don't worry,” Aiden says, “I'm sure that they'll warm up to me soon enough.”

Lambert is dubious but he doesn't want to crush Aiden's hope so he stays quiet. They unpack their bags in companionable silence, Lambert moves some of his things so that Aiden can use parts of the wardrobe and he sprawls on the bed once he's done. Aiden takes a bit longer, sorting his belongings and folding and neatly putting away his clean clothes in the space Lambert freed for him.

Lambert is just starting to doze when there's a knock and the door is pushed open before he or Aiden can tell the person to leave them alone. Vesemir stands in the doorway, looks at them with a small frown on his face that soon turns into a soft smile as he takes in the comfortable domestic scene he comes across.

“I just wanted to check if you were settling in fine,” Vesemir says.

“We're good,” Lambert answers.

“Everything's perfect,” Aiden agrees with a smile.

“Good, goodnight,” Vesemir nods at them and leaves, closing the door behind him.

Lambert frowns at the closed door for a few seconds, before he lets out an audible sigh and flops back down on the bed. He supposes that he should be grateful that Vesemir is showing some concern, he just hopes that he won't become an overbearing prick. His eyes fall close to Aiden's humming and he's barely conscious when there's another knock at the door. He scowls, turns his back to the door and decides that Aiden can deal with it.

He's vaguely aware of Aiden opening the door and glowers at the bedding when he hears Jaskier. He makes an effort not to eavesdrop on the conversation and relaxes again when Aiden closes the door. It takes the Cat another minute to finish with his clothes and Lambert leans into Aiden when he comes to sit next to him on the bed.

Lambert is already snuggly tucked under the covers and Aiden is just joining him when there's a third knock on the door.

“Leave us the fuck alone,” Lambert roars at the intruder.

Unfortunately he's ignored once again and Eskel shamelessly opens the door. His brother doesn't even get a word out before his eyes find Aiden's bare chest and the medallion resting there. His face contorts into some sort of an ugly grimace and he leaves them in a hurry with one last constipated face thrown their way.

Lambert growls, tugs Aiden under the covers and gets up instead. He's sure that Geralt will make an appearance in the next few seconds and indeed he hears his brother's hurried footsteps in the hallway not a minute later. Clearly the idiots all decided that it was an evening dedicated to bothering him.

Geralt throws the door open without even giving them the courtesy of a knock, and Lambert levels his best unimpressed scowl upon him. He takes a menacing step forward and digs his finger in Geralt's ribs until his brother backs off into the hallway. When Lambert looks right, he spots a flash of bright color turning around a corner and he knows – oh, he just knows – that Jaskier, Eskel, and even possibly Vesemir, are lurking nearby.

“You,” Lambert growls threateningly, “Leave us alone.”

Geralt makes some sort of pitiful grunt, raises his hands in the hair like he doesn't mean any harm and all the while his eyes are drawn to the room at Lambert's back.

“What ?”, Lambert asks and then adds when his brother opens his stupid mouth, “Answer that and you're getting a broken nose. Aiden and I are sharing. For the whole winter. It doesn't bother me. And it doesn't fucking concern you.”

“But,” Geralt says.

“ _Broken nose_ ,” Lambert reminds him and Geralt closes his mouth, “Good. Now, I know that he's a Cat, have known it since we first met. I'm not blind or stupid and I still chose to befriend him despite his school. So if it is good enough for me, _which it definitely is_ , it is going to be good enough for you. Got it ?”

Geralt nods even if he doesn't look happy about it.

“Good. Now, get lost.”

Lambert jabs his finger one last time into Geralt's chest and turns his back on his brother. Aiden is leaning against the doorjamb with a small smile upon his lips and his arms crossed over his chest hiding his medallion, and they go back inside the room together.

“Assholes,” Lambert says loud enough so that Geralt will hear him and then firmly locks the door.

“You know that a little overprotectiveness is to be expected,” Aiden says and shakes his head at him.

“They can shove it up their asses,” Lambert yells and hopes that his brothers will finally take the hint.

“Come on, let it go. Come to bed ?”

“Naked cuddling ?”, Lambert asks with a grin.

“If you want,” Aiden smiles and loses his pants just before slipping under the covers.

Lambert smiles fondly at Aiden, loses the rest of his clothes too and does his best to ignore the strangled coughs coming from the hallway, he has better things to focus upon than his idiotic brothers' shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're finally there!!!!!! Aiden meets the family :D


	19. Chapter 19

To Lambert's delight, Aiden settles almost easily into Kaer Morhen. He doesn't balk at doing chores, actually likes chopping wood, trains with them without a fuss – Lambert loves watching him run in circles around his brothers and trip them when he can safely get away with it – and listens to Vesemir when the old Wolf offers advice. Lambert takes him fishing a few times before the lake freezes over completely and they devise some interesting booze recipes together.

His brothers insist on being overbearing pricks for the first two weeks of their stay, and each and every time Lambert looks over his shoulder, he finds either Eskel or Geralt lounging nearby and creepily staring at Aiden. And Lambert tries to get them to back the fuck off, but nothing makes them relent, and he has to concede that, as Aiden points out, some staring is still better than threats or intimidations. Their behaviour doesn't placate Lambert though and infuriates him more and more as the days pass.

He finally finds some unexpected help in Jaskier. After two weeks of stalking, Lambert is on the verge of nastily snapping back and Aiden looks more and more frazzled at the weird attention bestowed upon his person. So Lambert decides to drag Aiden to the lake for one late fishing session that will hopefully relax them, before winter truly sets in and they will be trapped into the keep.

They're in the kitchen, stuffing their bags with food and checking that they have everything they'll need for a cold day outside, when Geralt appears decked in his warmest clothes and quite ready to accompany them. Lambert growls and is so close to throw himself at his brother to try to bash his head in, Vesemir's rule about no brawls being allowed in the kitchen be damned, when Jaskier appears, tugs twice on Geralt's hair and tuts disapprovingly at him. Geralt whines, but quietly follows Jaskier out of the kitchen like a damn puppy, and the bard fucking winks at Lambert before leaving him and Aiden alone.

Lambert is completely baffled by the encounter, but he's not going to ignore the distraction Jaskier provided them and they hurry out of the keep happy to finally be able to enjoy some peace and quiet. Jaskier continues to run interference for two more weeks until Eskel and Geralt relent on their own and fucking finally decide to leave Aiden alone. Lambert doesn't know what the bard did to his brothers, but for the first time since he met him, he's grateful for his presence in Kaer Morhen.

But seeing as Eskel and Geralt can't stalk them during the day anymore, they take up the habit to stay down in the evenings to spend time with them instead. For the first few weeks, it has mostly been Lambert and Aiden keeping Vesemir company in the evenings, with the odd day thrown in when they all ended up playing and drinking in the kitchen.

Now more often than not, they all spend their evenings together. Aiden tells Lambert that it doesn't bother him and Lambert nods and doesn't comment. Jaskier often plays music for them, Lambert provides the drinks, Vesemir usually trounces them when they play dice and Geralt the gwent-freak is delighted to discover that Aiden also plays gwent.

This leads to some serious four ways games of gwent and Lambert and Aiden don't hesitate to unashamedly cheat to win the upper hand. It clearly doesn't endear them to his brothers, but it at least gives them something worthwhile to rant about. And these evenings where they all rant and grin and drink and laugh at each other really help to smooth out the remaining discomfort.

And when one evening Geralt _asks_ to be partnered up with Aiden instead of Eskel, Lambert is so damn happy he lets them win and gladly accepts to do the cooking for a week as a forfeit, even if Eskel grumbles and whines about the unfairness of it all.

Lambert is rather glad that everything calms down for a while. And he's thinking that he's not going to have to deal with any more problems when his brothers decide to become difficult again. Eskel and Geralt's overprotectiveness makes a new appearance in the days between the end of his brothers' ruts and his own heat, and if it weren't for Vesemir and Jaskier's levelheaded patience, Lambert would have already stabbed the two idiots.

Everything starts on the day after Geralt's post-rut and Jaskier's post-heat. Lambert isn't actually present for the incident, he's in the still room mixing white gull with cherry liquor, but when he comes back up for dinner, everyone seems glum and nobody will look at him.

It takes him a few hours to make Aiden talk, and when he hears that his brothers dared to order him to vacate Lambert's room before sunset because his damn heat is nearing, the Cat has to use all of his tricks to keep him back from hunting down his brothers to skewer them. When they come down to supper, Vesemir's face is set in an angry scowl and Jaskier is the only one present. The bard eats with them but doesn't linger and the old Wolf sends him off with two plates of food and strict orders for him and Geralt and Eskel not to show their faces down before the next day.

Lambert and Aiden then take care of the dishes and when they sit back down at the table, Vesemir gets out a damn apple pie and Lambert groans out loud. He wonders what he did now to earn another uncomfortable talk, but Vesemir smirks at him, hands him a slice, a mug of tea and shoos him out of the kitchen. Lambert tries really hard to bargain to be allowed to stay with Aiden, but Vesemir is inflexible, and Lambert ends up pacing back and forth in his room waiting for the Cat to come back up.

He's not overly worried, Vesemir has been polite and nice with Aiden, and if the old Wolf has had any doubts about the quality of the company Lambert keeps, he hasn't said anything. So Lambert is almost sure that Aiden hasn't earned himself a talking to, but then he doesn't really know what Vesemir would want to talk about with the Cat and he just hopes that he will not stick his nose where it doesn't belong, meaning Lambert's business, like his stupid brothers.

Aiden comes back a while later and Lambert immediately stops pacing when he hears the door to his room open and close softly. Aiden then stokes the fire, undresses and Lambert quickly joins him under the covers. They huddle together in the middle of the bed and Lambert makes an effort not to be a prick and refrain from asking about the private conversation Aiden just shared with Vesemir. He still squirms at Aiden's side and wonders if the Cat will share on his own.

“You can ask, you know,” Aiden says and Lambert feels like he's being laughed at.

“Not my business,” Lambert grumbles.

“Well, I'd say that it is a bit of your business.”

“Did he order you to leave me alone too ?”

“No,” Aiden sighs, “But he encouraged me to speak with you about your heat. He said that you probably would not want to talk about it, but seeing as it is days away, it may be smart for you to decide now what exactly you want from me and your brothers, so that we can set boundaries, discuss them with Eskel and Geralt and avoid further unpleasant confrontations.”

“Do we have to do it tonight ?”, Lambert whines.

“Not if you don't want to,” Aiden sighs, “But tomorrow then.”

“Fine,” Lambert grunts as Aiden chuckles.

Lambert doesn't feel like talking about it the next morning, nor in the afternoon and nor in the evening, so he ignores it. He plans to ignore it the day after too, but when they come down for breakfast, Eskel is sitting in Aiden's place and Lambert feels uneasy when the Cat just shrugs and sits on his brother's other side.

At midday, Lambert spots Geralt scowling at Aiden while he backs the Cat up in a corner of a hallway, but Aiden deftly sidesteps his brother before Lambert can intervene. Lambert doesn't know what Geralt had been planning to do, he probably wanted to deliver some old-fashioned threats, but the situation still upsets him despite the fact that Aiden is more than capable of taking care of himself.

So Lambert decides to follow Vesemir's example. He throws everyone out of the kitchen after dinner and bakes a pie. They don't have apples anymore so he uses their remaining pears instead. He drags everyone back to the kitchen once he's done, serves some tea and cuts the pie. Vesemir and Aiden get the biggest slices and Lambert doesn't even try to hide that he's playing favorites.

He finally takes a seat once everyone is served, takes a bite of his own slice, which he's relieved to find out tastes fine, and glares at his brothers until they too start to eat. He watches them squirm in their seats for a few minutes, before he crosses his arms over his chest and glowers as best as he can in his brothers' direction.

“I'm sharing my heat with Aiden,” he says through gritted teeth.

Aiden chokes at his side and Lambert winces. He maybe should have talked about it with him first, instead of announcing it bluntly over some pie. Vesemir sighs, closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose like he can't quite believe what he just heard. Jaskier shrugs, smiles and busies himself with his tea like he doesn't care one way or another, and Eskel and Geralt choke, cough and glare at Aiden.

“What is your fucking problem now ?”, Lambert growls at his brothers.

“Nothing,” Eskel answers, “But... Are you sure ?”

“Yes.”

“Is he pressuring you about your heat ?”, Geralt asks with a grimace.

“No,” Lambert grunts and points threateningly at his brother with the kitchen knife, “And if you do not want to leave the kitchen with a stab wound, I'd be very careful about what you're going to say next.”

“Do you still want us to check on you during your heat ?”, Eskel asks.

“Aiden will be there to take care of me,” Lambert rebukes him, “Why would you want to check on me ? I don't want to see any of you three into my room during my heat.”

“Fine by me,” Jaskier says.

“What ?”, Lambert asks puzzled, he wasn't expecting to agree to his wishes so easily.

“All I ever wanted was to see you not being miserable during your heat,” Jaskier explains matter-of-factly, “You decide that Aiden is the right person for you, then good. Have a good time, _let him take care of you_ and have fun.”

“Jaskier !”, Geralt and Eskel exclaim.

“What ? Can't you just be glad that your brother found the right person to be happy with ?”

“But him ?”, Geralt whines, “Really ?”

“You know that I'm sitting right here ?”, Aiden asks, “What did I ever do to you that you doubt me so much ?”

“You didn't do anything,” Eskel sighs, “But Lambert is... fragile during his heat.”

“I am not !”, Lambert exclaims, outraged.

“Yes, you are,” Geralt says, “We just want to make sure that you're not rushing into things.”

“Fuck you, I'm not some stupid breakable omega you need to _coddle_ ,” Lambert sneers, “I'm perfectly able to make my own damn choices.”

“Enough !”, Vesemir intervenes, “I thought that I made myself clear last year, Lambert's heat, Lambert's choices. So you two shut up and back off. And you,” Vesemir says to Lambert, “Fucking _speak_ to Aiden about it. I am not picking up the pieces of your relationship if you botch everything up because you are incapable of putting what you need into words.”

They finish the pie in silence after Vesemir's outburst, nod tersely at each other and go on their own way. Lambert tries to go hide into the still room, but Aiden catches up to him before he reaches his safe room and they end up grappling in a secluded hallway. Aiden takes the upper hand, snakes his limbs around Lambert's and pins him down.

Lambert snarls and grunts and flexes his muscles, but he can't get out of the Cat's hold. And what infuriates him the most is the stupid grin Aiden sports on his _stupid_ face. It takes Lambert a few minutes to calm down, but Aiden, who knows him well, doesn't let him go until Lambert acknowledges the fact that he just lost. He lets the Cat tug him back to his feet and lead him back to their room with minimal grumbling.

Aiden actually locks the door behind them, fusses over Lambert until he's settled with his back against some pillows against the headboard, drapes a blanket over his lap, closes the window, stokes the fire and takes a seat at the other end of the bed.

Aiden puts another blanket over his shoulders and he looks so soft Lambert just wants to entice him into a round of lazy sex. He doesn't actually speak up, because he knows that Aiden has other things on his mind, but there's nothing stopping him from fantasizing. By the chuckle Aiden lets out, he's clearly aware of the turn Lambert's thoughts have taken.

“I'm sorry,” Aiden says, “I should have listened to Vesemir and pushed a little harder about having this conversation. It probably would have prevented some of today's awkwardness.”

Lambert grunts unhappily from his place on the bed.

“So first things first, do you want me to spend your heat with you or did you just tell that to annoy your brothers ?”

Lambert sighs and tugs the blanket up his body. He has to concede that a part of him wants to annoy his brothers and seeing them choke on their damn tea was worth it. But another part of him genuinely wants to make it work with Aiden. And he doesn't want Aiden to think that he's unwanted.

“Because if you did it just to annoy them,” Aiden continues, “Then fine, but I'm going to have to start to look for another room to spend the next few days and you might want to have another conversation with your brothers to get them off my back.”

“I don't... I want you there,” Lambert says through gritted teeth, “I want you to share my heat. I just... I'm not fucking _fragile_ like Eskel said, but I'm not... easy to deal with either.”

“You're never easy to deal with,” Aiden points out with a smile and Lambert grimaces.

“Asshole.”

“Prick,” Aiden fondly retorts, “What do you mean by difficult then ?”

“I don't like it,” Lambert says bluntly and stares at the ceiling because it's easier than looking at Aiden, “I hate my heat. I hate the feeling of powerlessness that comes with it, the fucking need to roll over and just let someone do whatever the fuck they want with me. And I fight it, I fight it from the first day of pre-heat to the last day of post-heat and it maybe makes me miserable, but I also feel better doing it that way.”

“Okay,” Aiden says slowly like he doesn't really understand what Lambert is teling him.

“It's not going to be pretty,” Lambert explains, “I'll get angry and miserable, and then I'll cling to you and take what I need, and the next minute I'll push you away and then cry or I'll hurl curses at the world, and then I'll roll over and let you do what you want with me.”

“Oh,” Aiden sighs softly, “I'm sorry. What do I do then ? Do I comfort you ? Do I go after you if you push me away ?”

“No, you leave me the fuck alone and wait. And I understand that you might not like it, it took some time for Geralt and Eskel to learn to back off in the beginning, but I'd rather know now if you think you can bear it or if you'd prefer not to have to. I can spend my heat alone if it proves to be too much to handle for you.”

“Will my presence really make it better ?”, Aiden asks softly.

“I'll still hate it, but I prefer to have someone at my side, it makes things easier. And I _want_ to trust you with it.”

“Then I'll stay.”

Lambert nods, swallows and closes his eyes. He doesn't know if it's a good idea asking Aiden to share his heat with him, just hopes that it won't turn out to be too much for any of them and that it won't end up breaking anything between them. He hears Aiden crawl up the bed to him and the Cat curls himself around Lambert's right side. One of Aiden's hands finds Lambert's and he brings it to his mouth to kiss his knuckles softly.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay,” Aiden says, “I know that it's not easy for you to trust someone with something as important as your heat, and I'm honoured you're letting me assist you.”

“Stop with the bullshit,” Lambert whispers as some stray tears escape his eyes.

“Not bullshitting you. I'll be careful with you.”

“I don't want you to be _careful_ ,” Lambert sneers, “I'm not going to break. I'm not fucking breakable or fragile or whatever. Just be yourself and give me some space when I ask for it and we'll be fine.”

Aiden hums at him and squeezes his hand.

“You were careful with me,” Aiden points out.

“If you say so,” Lambert sighs and knows that he won't win this argument.

“So if you're not pushing me away, what do I do ? Is it a no cock in your cunt and ass kind of situation too ? Or a do as you're told situation ?”

Lambert sighs again.

“It's more of a do as you're told situation,” Lambert concedes, “Unless you don't want to do it, I'm not going to force myself on you.”

“Didn't think that you would.”

“You can fuck me, I'll ask for it too. Focus on my cunt though, I don't want you playing with my ass during my heat. You can blow me and I can blow you too. For the rest, you know what I like well enough.”

“Can I eat you out ?”, Aiden asks a little bit breathless.

“Sure,” Lambert agrees, “Oh, I forgot to say, no implements. No toys, no restraints, unless you need a break, but I don't want to be tied up if we're going to have sex. Just you.”

“Fine by me,” Aiden shrugs, “Will I need to restrain you when I go to the kitchen to fetch the food and drinks ? Or will you be fine on your own for a few minutes ?”

“You won't need to go down,” Lambert explains, “Eskel or Geralt will bring the food and the drinks up. Tell them to leave everything in front of the door if we're busy, I don't want them to come in.”

“Okay. Last question then. Do you know what I should expect on your second day of heat ?”

Lambert feels his stomach drop. He opens his mouth to answer, because it's a legitimate question, and closes it after a few seconds. He doesn't know what to say to Aiden. He clears his throat and tries again.

“I don't really know. I suppose that I'll be a needy mess who'll beg to be fucked. I never asked Eskel and Geralt what I was like, but... Well. You can ask them if you want. Just. Don't tell me. Ever. I don't want to know what I beg for or what I look like.”

“Okay,” Aiden agrees and squeezes his hand again, “Anything else I need to know ?”

“No, that's all.”

Aiden hums softly at his side and slowly grows sleepy. Lambert watches him fall asleep and carefully takes his hand back once he's sure his lover won't wake up. He then gently slips away from Aiden, puts a blanket over his shoulders and leaves the room.

He supposes that having this conversation was necessary, but it was painful all the same, and Lambert needs some space now. So he heads for the still room and locks himself in to fiddle with his equipment, calm himself down and process everything that happened in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And more drama........


	20. Chapter 20

Lambert's heat hits four days later and he's finally glad to have had that conversation with Aiden. To be honest, when he wakes up, Lambert doesn't even notice that his pre-heat started during the night. He's spooning Aiden and wakes up utterly relaxed. It's only when they disentangle themselves that Lambert takes note of the slight itch. It's a lot less uncomfortable than usual, but it's still _there_ all the same, and Lambert growls and curses as he gets dressed.

Aiden watches him from the bed with a frown on his face, probably wondering what spooked him now. The Cat takes a few discreet sniffs and Lambert sees the exact moment he understands what is happening. Aiden's eyes widen, he makes a small noise of understanding and he stares at Lambert like he's never seen him before.

Lambert ignores him, ignores the damn itch and slams the door on his way out of the room. The fact that he arrives alone at breakfast garners him a few raised eyebrows and Jaskier audibly sighs at him like he honestly thought everything would immediately be better just because Lambert agreed to share his heat with Aiden. Luckily for Lambert, everyone keeps his mouth shut and when Aiden arrives, he takes his usual seat at the table without trying to crowd Lambert.

Lambert spends his morning alone in the still room. He bottles some vodka, mixes some mint syrup he borrowed from the kitchen with white gull and makes a note to bring back some hot spices next year to blend in with some vodka. He'll use Geralt and Eskel as guinea pigs for his new recipe.

He goes back up at midday without someone needing to fetch him and spends the whole meal squirming in his seat just waiting for someone to comment or to tell him what he should do. Jaskier seems ready to speak up several times, but Lambert only has to send him his most scathing glare for him to stay quiet and pout instead.

Geralt and Eskel seem exasperated, but they're used to him by now so they know that saying something will just convince Lambert to do the opposite of what they want, and Vesemir spends the meal sighing and rolling his eyes at everyone. Aiden doesn't do or say anything, and it infuriates Lambert as much as it reassures him.

“You know,” Aiden says at the end of the meal as they're watching Eskel and Jaskier take care of the dishes and Lambert is still squirming, arguing with himself about asking to be touched, “You look like someone dropped an eel down your pants.”

Geralt snorts on the other side of the table and Eskel's shoulders are shaking with laughter while Jaskier is chuckling quietly with his back to Lambert. Vesemir rolls his eyes again but he's smiling softly.

“ _Shut up_ ,” Lambert grouches and takes Aiden's damn hand to place it over his ribs.

He immediately stops squirming and lets out a contented little sigh. When he looks up at Aiden, ready to verbally eviscerate him if he so much as looks smug, he finds the Cat looking straight ahead at the different jars containing tea. Lambert huffs in annoyance and slumps in his seat. He decides that he can enjoy the rest of the meal, he'll have ample time to be miserable during the afternoon.

To take his mind off his heat, he decides to go muck the stables in the afternoon, and when Geralt comes to see him and tries to shoo him inside, his brother gets a shoveful of horse shit thrown his way. He's left alone after that. Once the stables are clean, he brushes the horses and exercise them a bit in the courtyard.

By the time Lambert himself goes back inside, he stinks, he's tired and he longs to be touched again. He scowls as he passes Eskel in a hallway and is glad to note that his smell makes him recoil. Lambert smirks at him and goes on his way to the hot springs, deciding that the hot water will do him good.

He's washed and just lounging into the hot water by the time someone knocks on the door of the hot springs. He scowls and doesn't answer, with his luck, it's probably Jaskier coming to badger him again. The door still opens and Aiden's head appears through the crack.

“What do you want ?”, Lambert grumbles at him.

“Geralt said that you were in a mood and Eskel said that you were in dire need of a wash. Just checking if you need something or if you prefer to be left alone.”

“I can wash myself well enough, I'm not an invalid,” Lambert rants.

“Did you check between your toes too ?”, Aiden asks with a grin, “Because I can still remember offering you a foot massage once and finding old crusted blood between some of your toes.”

“Should I remind you that you went a week with harpies' guts into your hair once ?”

“Not my fault I lost my damn comb !”

“Still disgusting,” Lambert says, “And stop hovering, I'm not going to throw you out if you want to come in.”

Aiden smiles at him, undresses quickly and jumps into the water. Lambert splutters and splashes the Cat once he manages to make his eyes work correctly again and settles back against his side of the pool with a sigh.

“Naked cuddling ?”, Aiden asks, hopeful.

Lambert hums and considers the idea. He wants to be touched, but he's not that desperate for it yet. That doesn't mean that he doesn't want to cuddle with Aiden, he just can't decide if it'll make him feel like shit later or not. Aiden is patiently waiting for his answer, his eyes travelling appreciatively over Lambert's body and he gives in. He sighs, beckons Aiden closer and ends up with a lapful of wriggling witcher.

Lambert's muscles relax as soon as Aiden settles between his arms and Lambert curses his body. He hates the fact that he's got no control over it and he has to fight with himself not to throw Aiden off his lap in a fit of anger. Some of his inner turmoil must still show, because Aiden raises his head to look at him with a sad frown on his face.

“Too much ?”, Aiden asks him softly.

Lambert nods and Aiden gets off his lap without a word. Lambert misses him immediately and lets out a small whine. Aiden hesitates to come back to him and Lambert turns his head so as not to have to look at him. He hates his damn body, he hates that he has to rely on someone else to feel at ease and he hates the fact that he can't make up his damn mind about what he wants. He hears Aiden sigh and the Cat wordlessly takes a seat on the other side of the pool. Lambert clenches his hands into fists, grits his teeth, but doesn't call him back.

Aiden starts to hum quietly after a while and Lambert closes his eyes and dozes. Aiden must fall asleep too, because Vesemir has to come down to the hot springs to fetch them for supper, and the old Wolf doesn't seem too pleased by it. Aiden apologizes to him while Lambert just shrugs and follows him upstairs yawning.

Aiden takes his seat next to Lambert as usual, and this time he doesn't wait until the end of the meal to seek out touch. He tangles their fingers together as they wait to be served and because he feels a little bit bad about what happened in the hot springs, he grits his teeth and places Aiden's hand over his ribs as Vesemir gets out some pickled fruits to go with the tea.

Aiden doesn't comment but tries to take his hand back when he sees Lambert's tight face. Lambert shakes his head and places his own hand over Aiden's. The Cat narrows his eyes at him but in the end shrugs and lets Lambert do as he wants.

They don't linger in the kitchen once supper is finished and Aiden dutifully follows Lambert back up to their room. Aiden is the first to undress and he watches Lambert pace with attentive eyes, while Lambert is fighting with himself about going to bed. One part of him wants to join Aiden under the covers and to cuddle up to him, but another part of him argues that he doesn't _need_ his lover and that it'll be best if he stays alone. He doesn't know what to do.

“You know, we cuddle every night,” Aiden tells him, “You don't have to think of it as a heat thing. Just think about it as a normal thing.”

A normal thing. A usual thing. A thing they indeed do every night. He can do a normal thing if it's not a heat thing. He feels a bit stupid that he didn't think about it into these terms before and he eagerly crawls into bed and lets Aiden wrap his arms around his body. It's nice and it certainly isn't a damn heat thing.

When he wakes up on the next morning, he feels so relaxed he doesn't want to move. Aiden stays still too and agrees to be Lambert's pillow for a little while longer. Everything is fine until they decide to get up. As soon as they separate, Lambert feels the need to be touched come back, lets out an involuntary whimper and remembers why he hates his body.

Aiden frowns at him when he hears him whimpering and opens his arms before taking a step back, because he doesn't know what Lambert wants. Lambert himself doesn't know what he wants, except not being in heat which unfortunately will not go away anytime soon, and he snarls at Aiden because he doesn't know what to do. He leaves the room in a huff, steals a hug and a plate from Vesemir, and goes to hide into the still room to eat.

He plans to avoid the midday meal so as not to see anyone, but Aiden tracks him down to the still room with a mug of ale and a plate full of cold meat, cheese and bread. Lambert stares him down from inside the still room, clearly decided not to give in to the urge to burrow into Aiden's arms, when the Cat widens his eyes and pouts and Lambert curses. Someone must have told him that Lambert can't resist a good pair of puppy dog's eyes and he lets out a defeated sigh and agrees to come out of the still room.

He eats on the stairs, Aiden's thighs bracketing his body and his hands gently massaging his skull, and without really knowing how or when Lambert melts into Aiden's embrace. He waits for the Cat to comment, is ready to send his elbow into his gut if he utters one single word, but Aiden only hums and one of his arms curls around Lambert's chest, and he's so tired to fight it that he closes his eyes and lets his lover take care of him for once.

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up in front of the library fire with Aiden cuddling him and his brothers and Vesemir softly talking nearby while Jaskier strums his lute, he startles badly and scrambles up. He's vaguely aware that in his haste he punches the air out of Aiden's lungs, but he doesn't care and he flees to the hot springs before anyone can make a stupid comment about his weakness.

Aiden enters the hot springs a few minutes later and finds him harshly scrubbing his skin. He sighs, undresses, gets into the water and steals the rag Lambert is using to wash himself. He then starts to wash him much more gently than what Lambert was doing. Lambert scowls, lets him do as he pleases for a few minutes, before he tugs his arm free of Aiden's grasp and goes to sit in one corner of the pool with a glare firmly directed at Aiden.

“Your murder stare doesn't scare me,” Aiden tells him and plops down on the bench on the other side of Lambert.

“Don't call it a murder stare,” Lambert says petulantly.

“Do you prefer killing stare ?”, Aiden asks with a grin.

“No.”

Aiden sighs, winks at him and closes his eyes. Lambert watches him relax into the water and longs to join him. He imagines the Cat's hands gliding over his skin and soothing the need he feels slowly growing and decides that he'd prefer to have some company now so that he can hope to keep his dignity during supper.

Aiden clearly hears him approaching, smiles at him and opens his arms for Lambert without a word. Lambert dithers for a few seconds before getting himself under control, reminds himself that he fucking trusts Aiden and plops down into the Cat's lap. He's a bit abrupt though and Aiden lets out a small hiss as Lambert unintentionally elbows him in the gut.

“Sorry,” he grunts at Aiden and makes himself comfortable.

“No worries,” Aiden answers, “I'm sturdier than you think.”

“You wish.”

“Smartass.”

Lambert hums, leans his head back against Aiden's shoulder and lets his lover close his arms over his body. He closes his eyes again but sleep eludes him, so he soon starts to squirm. Aiden apparently really likes his squirming though and Lambert soon feels his hands clenching over his waist. He smiles against Aiden's neck and softly nibbles on his skin completely forgetting about his heat.

“Lambert,” Aiden whines, “Not in the hot springs.”

“It wouldn't be the worst thing these springs ever witnessed,” Lambert snorts against Aiden's skin.

“You're incorrigible,” Aiden chuckles, “But I got some very pointed looks thrown my way when I followed you, and I don't want those looks to turn from pointed to angered. So not in the hot springs.”

“Fine,” Lambert agrees, “You can carry me up then.”

“You sure ?”

Lambert only has to nod once for Aiden to stand and to throw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Lambert grunts and grumbles and squirms, because that was _not_ what he imagined when he asked Aiden to carry him, but Aiden only sighs, pats his ass and carries him upstairs. The walk to their room is mortifying and Lambert prays that they don't come across anyone.

For once his luck holds and they reach their room not having seen anybody but leaving an obvious wet trail behind them. Lambert slaps Aiden's ass hard seconds before he's tossed on the bed and he smirks at the Cat when he sees that the trip winded him a little.

“You need to train harder,” Lambert tells him with a smug smirk.

“More like you need to lose a few pounds,” Aiden retorts and pounces on him.

Lambert rolls away and watches Aiden crash into the bedding. He drapes himself over his back and grunts when Aiden throws him off. They roll around the bed for a while, exchange a few kisses between their wrestling until Lambert pins Aiden to the bed and sinks down onto his cock with a loud moan.

“Lambert !”, Aiden exclaims, “Fuck, you're going to hurt yourself !”

“I've been leaking slick all day,” Lambert grunts at him by way of explanation.

“Oh,” Aiden says breathlessly, “Sorry, I didn't think.”

Lambert nods, glares at Aiden when he sees him cross his arms behind his head with a cheeky grin and resigns himself to do all the work here. He rides him slowly, steals kisses when he feels like it and sucks love bites into Aiden's neck to hear his breath stutter.

“Need a hand ?”, Aiden asks him breathlessly as Lambert steadily brings them closer to their peaks.

“Please,” he asks and moans when he feels Aiden's fingers closing over his prick.

It doesn't take them long to come after that and Lambert lets himself fall over Aiden's chest completely boneless. He pants against the Cat's skin and lets out a pleased hum when Aiden's fingers end up in his hair massaging his skull.

Lambert then tries to nap again, but sleep eludes him and he gets up with a grown. He frowns down at his body when he notices that he can barely feel the itch that usually has him pacing restlessly by that time of his pre-heat and he decides that he doesn't want to think about it now. He fetches the two books they've been reading lately, hands Aiden his and makes himself comfortable at the Cat's side.

Eskel bothers them as the sun sets and they hear him dump the clothes they left in the hot springs in front of their door while he grumbles about having to clean up the mess they made on their way up. Lambert snickers at his brother and Aiden fondly shakes his head at him like he wasn't the one who decided to make a mess in the first place.

They wait until Eskel disappears back downstairs to get up, get dressed and go down for supper. Jaskier and Geralt smirk at them as soon as they enter the kitchen and Vesemir slaps the back of their heads like they're unruly children. Lambert smirks at his brother and the bard and hurries to his seat when the old Wolf turns back and glares like he knows what Lambert just did behind his back.

Eskel then rants at them about the wet trail they left behind them, and when Lambert tells him to complain to Aiden, it only garners him some disbelieving stares and he rolls his eyes and hogs the stew pot as a revenge. He knows that Aiden is more slender than him, but he's definitely strong enough to lug Lambert around even if nobody believes it. Lambert has to concede that it's nice for Aiden to be underestimated, but for once he could own up to his own mess instead of letting Lambert take the fall.

But apparently Aiden doesn't feel like admitting that he was the one leaving a wet trail all over the castle and he holds out his plate to Lambert to be served with an innocent smile on his face. Lambert grumbles but ends up serving everyone, and they share a few stories of the trouble they caused when they were young over supper.

It's a rather nice evening for a day of pre-heat, Lambert muses, but he can't help himself from squirming and tensing as the meal comes to an end, and he hurries back to his room once they're done. He's shivering and hugging himself under the covers by the time Aiden joins him and he wordlessly plasters himself against his side. Aiden doesn't say a word either and falls asleep rather quickly. On the contraty it takes Lambert a while to relax enough to fall into a fitful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it was supposed to be the last chapter, but it was longer than I thought and I want to reread the end again, so I cut it in half...  
> The last chapter (for sure!!) will come out over the week-end :D


	21. Chapter 21

Lambert wakes up aroused. It doesn't surprise him but it is still annoying. His body also really really wants to be fucked and his cunt is begging for attention, as on the contrary he just wants to be able to curl up in a corner and forget about everything. He unfortunately knows that it won't happen and grits his teeth.

He knows that he could wake Aiden up, but he doesn't want to bother him, which even in his own head sounds like a stupid excuse, but he can't make himself poke him awake, so he rolls away from the Cat, curls up into a ball and takes care of his damn need alone. Unfortunately it isn't enough and he soon ends up whimpering in the sheets trying to stay quiet.

“Lambert ?”, Aiden's sleepy voice startles him, “Fuck, why didn't you wake me ?”

“Because I can fucking deal with it myself,” he snarls in a fit of anger.

“I know,” Aiden sighs, “But the whole point of me being here is that you don't have to. Can I touch you ?”

Lambert doesn't answer and curls up on himself even more. Aiden sounds sad and it wasn't his intention to start the day in such a shitty way.

“Lambert ? I really need you to talk to me, I can't read your mind. Can I touch you or is it a leave you alone kind of situation ?”

“Fuck me,” Lambert grunts at him.

He uncurls himself, sprawls on his back in the middle of the bed and waits for Aiden to move. He's surprised when his lover doesn't go straight for his cunt but takes the time to kiss him instead. He makes a small stupid surprised sound against Aiden's lips and opens his mouth to aggressively bite at his lower lip.

Aiden responds in kind before leaving several marks on Lambert's throat. Lambert drags his nails down Aiden's back, takes a hold of his ass and urges him forward.

“Get a move on,” Lambert grunts.

“I really would love too,” Aiden says, sheepish, “But I might need one more minute to... hum... Well, I was just asleep, you know.”

And indeed when Lambert takes the time to take a look down his lover's body, he can see that he's not quite hard yet.

“Fuck,” Lambert swears, “Get your fucking tongue in me then.”

He insistently pushes a chuckling Aiden down his body and fists his hands in the sheets as the Cat spreads his legs and gets his tongue exactly where Lambert needs it. His fingers soon end up on Lambert's cock and it doesn't take him long to come. He's slightly panting and still feeling fucking horny, when Aiden backs off. Lambert snarls.

“Get your damn cock in me,” he orders him.

“Already ?”

“Yes, already,” Lambert growls and hooks one of his leg over Aiden's backside to tug him forward.

Aiden rolls his eyes, swats at his leg and finally gets his cock into Lambert. Lambert arches off the bed, concentrates on the way Aiden feels inside him and he soon ends up panting and moaning. Aiden comes first, which is a damn shame, and Lambert whines in annoyance until the Cat's fingers enter him and his mouth ends up on Lambert's cock and he comes with a shout.

“Where are you going ?”, he asks Aiden and glares at him as he gets up.

“Eskel was by,” Aiden answers, “He left breakfast outside.”

Lambert frowns, he didn't even notice Eskel knocking much less speaking to them. He's glad to notice that his brother took note that he didn't want him and Geralt in his room though, he's sure that he wouldn't have reacted well if his brother had decided to push and to enter despite having been told not to.

Aiden comes back with two mugs of tea, two bowls of porridge and a small jar of dried fruits. Lambert smiles when he spots the blueberry jam in his porridge and sits back against Aiden without a word to scarf down his meal, he's so hungry.

“Uh,” Aiden interrupts his enthusiastic eating.

“What ?”, Lambert asks around a mouthful.

“They put some lemon jam into my porridge.”

“Yeah, you like lemon jam.”

“We usually don't have jam in our porridges.”

“Heat and rut are special,” Lambert explains grumpily, “Geralt and Eskel usually bring back one or two pots of blueberry jam for me, and Vesemir puts them aside for my heat. And I gave him a jar of your lemon jam when we arrived too.”

“I love you,” Aiden whispers softly after a few seconds of intent staring.

“Love you too,” Lambert says gruffly and turns back to his meal.

Lambert clings to Aiden again as soon as the Cat deposits the dirty dishes outside to be collected by his brothers later, and manages to ride Aiden a few times without incident. But after his sixth orgasm of the day leaves him still feeling needy and craving to be fucked, he gets angry at his damn body again.

He pushes Aiden away with a snarl, curls up into a ball on his side of the bed and screams into the bedding. He fists his hands into the sheets, is almost sure that he rips them a little and waits and waits for his body to leave him in peace. Unfortunately the need only becomes more unbearable and Lambert is acutely aware that Aiden is staying weirdly silent at his back.

He manages to hold on until dinner and Aiden actually has to feed him, because by the time Geralt brings them their meal, he's a writhing moaning miserable mess that would probably spill everything over the bed. And as soon as they discard their dishes, Lambert manhandles Aiden until he's seated at the head of the bed against the headboard and sinks down on his cock with a loud moan.

He's a bit more forceful than usual in their lovemaking and sets a rather brutal pace until he climaxes over both of their chests. He catches his breath for a minute as Aiden's hands settle on his hips and his prick is still hard inside Lambert's cunt. Lambert doesn't waste any time after that and gets on riding his cock hard and fast. He reaches a second orgasm with a shout as Aiden whines still being denied his and Lambert orders him to fuck him again.

Aiden nods and lets him get onto hands and knees on the bed before entering him again. Lambert tries to push back but Aiden's hands grip his hips tightly and force him to stay still. The slow pace Aiden sets is infuriating at first, before Lambert lets himself be lulled by his lover's movements. His climax actually takes him by surprise and he groans as he feels Aiden come inside him.

He flops down on the bed a few seconds later and Aiden follows suit and sprawls over his back. His weight is rather nice, it makes him feel grounded and it takes him a few moments for his hand to find Aiden's. He threads their fingers together, closes his eyes and falls asleep.

He jumps Aiden as soon as he wakes up and entices him into another few rounds of sex before he starts to get angry again and ends up crying out of frustration until supper. The evening is calmer but Lambert still hesitantly asks for Aiden's mouth several times when it appears that the Cat's prick has trouble to rise to the challenge.

“I should have thanked you better if that is what you had to deal with last year with me,” Aiden sighs against Lambert's temple once they're ready to fall asleep completely exhausted, “You're exhausting.”

“Sorry,” Lambert says through clenched teeth.

“Don't apologize, it's not your fault,” Aiden says and nuzzles his hair, “I just didn't think that it would be this demanding.”

“Sorry,” Lambert repeats for a lack of anything better to say.

“Stop apologizing,” Aiden repeats, “I don't mind it. I'm glad to be here.”

Aiden soon falls asleep, completely worn out, but Lambert can't quite follow his example. He's tired too, but his stomach is also tying itself into knots when he thinks about tomorrow. He has to remind himself several times that he _trusts_ Aiden to get him through it as painlessly as possible and is glad the Cat went to sleep sprawled over Lambert's chest so that he can't run. He finally closes his eyes a few scant hours before dawn gripping one of Aiden's hands tightly.

When Lambert comes back to his senses a whole day later, he's not resting on a warm chest but instead can feel someone wrapped around his back with an arm thrown over his waist. He frowns at the arm, wonders why he's not waking up on Eskel's chest like usual after his insensate second day of heat, before he remembers that Eskel is not supposed to be anywhere near his bed and that it is normal for Aiden to do things differently.

He then takes stock of his body and grimaces at his smell, he and Aiden are both in dire need of a wash. But apart from the smell, he feels fine. His cunt is a bit sore and already he feels the need to be fucked and filled rise again, but otherwise he feels great, he's not in pain and he's not bleeding, and that is freaking fantastic.

He's a bit thirsty though and he wiggles around until he can reach the bedside table where he can see a mug of now cold tea waiting for him. He drinks it all in a few seconds and settles back against Aiden's chest with a small sigh. It doesn't take long for Aiden to wake up and to sleepily nuzzle the back of his head.

“Lambert ?”, Aiden asks between yawns.

“Yes, I'm back.”

“Good,” Aiden says and kisses the back of his neck, “Missed you.”

“Sorry,” Lambert grunts.

“Not your fault. Are you okay ?”

“Fine,” Lambert grunts, “And you ?”

“Everything went fine,” Aiden answers and his hand find Lambert's to offer him a reassuring squeeze, “Anyway can I doze for a few more minutes or do you need me ?”

“You can go back to sleep,” Lambert says through gritted teeth, because he doesn't want to deny him sleep even as he wants his lover to fuck him already, and tightens his hold over Aiden's hand.

Aiden just sighs, kisses the back of his neck again and asks for some help to get in the mood instead of going back to sleep. Lambert ends up on his knees, eagerly sucking Aiden's cock and spreads his legs without being prompted once he deems Aiden hard enough to do his damn job.

Lambert is happy to note that he's feeling less frantic now that his heat is almost over, and aside from a small episode of frustrated crying and snarling at midday, everything is fine. He dozes against Aiden between lazy trysts, speeds things up when he needs it and ends up sprawled completely boneless over Aiden's chest at sunset. His lover is panting hard beneath him, idly stroking his back and then humming softly. It's nice.

Lambert feels bad about rousing his lover one last time after supper, but Aiden just nods, goes to his knees and sucks Lambert off as he burries three fingers inside his cunt. It takes him three orgasms to finally feel the need subside and he tugs an exhausted Aiden up so that he can rest at his side. They fall asleep casually entangled together not long after that, and Lambert presses one last sleepy kiss upon Aiden's brow before he closes his eyes and lets sleep claim him.

The next day is spent lazing around in front of the library fire, Lambert feeling much more at ease now that he knows that his heat is over and that he only has two more days of post-heat to go through. He's still surprised when Geralt and Eskel approach him in the afternoon, asking if Lambert would like to use them as pillows, and he grunts something unintelligible at his brothers while he plasters himself against Aiden's front. He feels a little bad about abandonning his brothers, who had been taking care of his needs for years, but now that Aiden is available, he much prefers to stay at the Cat's side.

As Lambert doesn't outright reject his brothers, it only takes Geralt a few seconds to curl himself around his back and he lets out a small sound of surprise when he spots Eskel doing the same at Aiden's back. His lover briefly tenses next to him and Lambert is ready to tell his brothers to fuck off if Aiden doesn't dare do it, but the Cat discreetly shakes his head, smiles softly and relaxes back into his embrace.

Lambert supposes that the two idiots are probably trying to convey the fact that they approve of Aiden, or something equally stupid, and decides to let it go. He much prefers them to be nice to Aiden than to try to intimidate him away from Lambert.

“I'm sorry,” Geralt rumbles against the back of his neck.

“What for ?”, Lambert asks, his throat tight.

“We're sorry,” Eskel adds, “For being pricks.”

“And overbearing alphas assholes,” Geralt continues.

“We're glad you brought Aiden. He's good for you,” Eskel whispers softly and Lambert sees his brothers' hand squeeze Aiden's waist.

“Thanks, I think,” Aiden says softly and looks at Lambert.

“Whatever you say,” Lambert grunts and snuggles against Aiden's chest.

He's glad his brothers finally noticed that they had behaved like dicks, but he's not going to just accept a measly excuse and forget everything they ever said or did. They're going to have to grovel some more if they want him to stop being annoyed at them and to earn Lambert's complete forgiveness. He's glad that they noticed, but he really hopes that they're not apologizing to him if they plan to continue being assholes to Aiden and him again. But it's enough for today and he closes his eyes and relaxes into Aiden and his brothers' embrace.

They share the midday day meal with everyone in the kitchen, but don't linger downstairs after supper and after a quick trip to the hot springs, they go back to their room to cuddle together. In the morning Lambert is progressively waking up, still being utterly relaxed and breathing in Aiden's scent, when his lover starts to squirm.

“Please, don't get angry at me,” Aiden softly whispers into his hair and kisses his forehead.

Lambert would be alarmed if only he could, but he's so relaxed that he doesn't think that he can worry or get angry in his state. So he grumbles, tightens his hold on Aiden's wiggling body and opens one eye to glare at his lover hoping that he'll get the hint and stay put. Sadly Aiden doesn't stay still, bends down over the edge of the bed and comes back up with a wooden box that he hands Lambert with a nervous smile.

Lambert stares at the box and then stares at Aiden and it takes him a few seconds and a nudge to actually take it. He sits up and leans back against the headboard with one of his feet casually hooked over Aiden's thigh to prevent him from fleeing and he sniffs the damn box. Aiden nervously laughs, Lambert glares and opens the lid like there's a bomb waiting for him to set it off.

What he finds isn't a bomb but an assortment of jewelry. He takes out the first piece he sees, which turns out to be a necklace made of one thin twisted silver chain. He finds two more necklaces, one of heavy bronze and the other of delicate copper, one ear cuff, two pairs of earrings, one bracelet and three anklets and even one damn hairpin that Lambert surely will never be able to wear. It's all omega jewelry.

“What the fuck ?”, Lambert asks Aiden, completely flummoxed.

“For you ?”, Aiden offers with a small smile as he nervously plays with his fingers.

“Yeah, I got that, but dammit Aiden, this is jewelry for at least ten heats ! And there's a damn hairpin ! How am I supposed to wear a hairpin ?”

“I know,” Aiden whines, “But I just saw them and they reminded me of you and I couldn't _not_ buy them. I kept them with me hoping that you'd trust me enough to let me help you through one of your heats one day, and here we are.”

Aiden sounds so earnest and one of his hands is absently stroking his own torque, and Lambert closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It's all he ever imagined, but didn't believe he would ever have, and _more_ because it comes from _Aiden_ that he can't even conceive refusing such a gift, doesn't _want_ to refuse it.

“How long did it take you to collect all of these ?”

“A few years,” Aiden mumbles.

Lambert smiles, he supposes that it is sort of sweet, even if he'll never say that out loud.

“Thank you,” Lambert whispers.

He strokes one of the necklaces, doesn't quite dare to believe yet that he owns jewelry now and beckons Aiden closer so that he can kiss him.

“Put them on for me ?”, he asks, breathless, and Aiden eagerly nods.

Lambert ends up looking ridiculous, because neither he nor Aiden quite know when to stop and they end up piling the three necklaces over his neck. Aiden then fastens the bracelet and all of the three anklets in their places and presses soft kisses against Lambert's ankles while he's at it. They struggle to slip the ear cuff on and then Lambert has to choose one pair of earrings, because the both of them don't fit, and the hairpin ends up in Aiden's hair.

Aiden is clearly aroused by the time Lambert is set with all his jewelry and he makes the Cat chase him around the room as a treat. The faint sound of Lambert's jewelry as they run or grapple together clearly pleases Aiden who can't keep himself from running his fingers over the necklaces or the earrings or the bracelet when he's close enough to do so and Lambert shivers in anticipation. He finally lets himself be caught after an invigorating scuffle and he lets out an appreciative moan when Aiden finally kisses him over the bear pelt lying in front of the hearth.

Lambert goes down to breakfast wearing all of his jewelry because he fucking feels like it and just hopes that nobody will give them shit about it. As it turns out, Geralt chokes on his breakfast in surprise, Jaskier whistles appreciatively, Eskel nods at Aiden and Vesemir hums at them and squeezes Aiden's shoulder. It's weird, but really appreciated..

And when Lambert announces that he's sharing Aiden's rut a few weeks later, nobody says anything and they let them do as they wish. They leave Kaer Morhen not long after Aiden's rut and for once, Lambert gets down the trail with Eskel, Geralt and Jaskier at his and Aiden's side. They soon go on their own way, but not before sharing one last night drinking together next to their fire – and then Lambert and Aiden stop by the Cat's house to make sure that it is still standing.

They sort through Aiden's belongings, prepare packs for when they plan to come back in late autumn and take everything back with them to Kaer Morhen. Now that Aiden spent one winter with all of them, Lambert will not be letting him out of his sight anymore during the cold months if he can help it. And Aiden had eagerly accepted his invitation to come back with him, for once Lambert is already looking forward to the next winter.

In late spring he goes looking for Coën and hopes to drag him to Kaer Morhen for the winter too, but he doesn't find him in his usual hunting spots. He's a bit disappointed but he can still try to reach him the next year or even the year after that one, there's no time limit to the invitation. As it turns out, he doesn't need to worry because Eskel drags him to Kaer Morhen instead.

Lambert and Aiden arrived early this year with all of the Cat's belongings and Vesemir immediately set them to work. Geralt and Jaskier arrived a few days after them, and they had a few days to go through before Eskel joined them.

Lambert is in the kitchen, on the evening Eskel comes home, working on a meat pie with Jaskier, while Aiden offers some unhelpful comments and Geralt and Vesemir are looking at them, probably laughing at their efforts and drinking some mead quietly. They hear the keep's door open just as they put two meat pies into the oven and Jaskier smiles at Eskel as he enters the kitchen.

“Coën !”, Lambert exclaims when he sees his friend appear behind his brother, “What are you doing here ?”

He is prevented from joining his friend by Eskel, who after sidestepping Jaskier, goes on his knees in front of Lambert and takes a hold of his knees to keep him in place. Lambert makes a small confused sound and his brother raises his head, looks him square in the eyes and apologizes.

“Lambert,” Eskel says, “I am _so so so sorry_ that I didn't believe you when you told us about Aiden and Coën.”

“Okay,” Lambert agrees and pats him on the head, “Can you let me go now ?”

The apology is nice, it's not the first one his brothers or Jaskier are giving him, not even the most heartfelt, but it's certainly the most dramatic he's ever received until now and he wonders what he did to deserve it. Eskel ignores his last question though and takes a deep breath.

“Will you please, _please_ , make him stop now ? _Please_ ,” Eskel begs and Lambert rolls his eyes.

“What did you do ?”, he asks Coën with an aggrieved sigh.

“ _He_ has been following me around for two months,” Eskel answers while Coën smirks smugly, “All the while making stupid ghost noises behind my back. Please make him stop, I know that he's not a ghost, _please_.”

Aiden chuckles behind his back, and he can even hear Jaskier, Geralt and Vesemir chortling behind him. Lambert looks at Coën who shrugs and smirks unrepentently at him and he laughs too. He tugs Eskel to his feet, sends him off into Geralt's waiting open arms and finally goes to greet Coën.

“I missed you,” Lambert tells him as he hugs him.

“I'm glad to see you too.”

“Nice idea with the ghost sounds,” Lambert compliments him as he hears Eskel quietly complain about the Griffin to Geralt behind them.

“Thanks,” Coën says and chuckles, “He's rather easy to rile up once you know what makes him tick.”

Lambert laughs again and claps the Griffin on the shoulder. He then tugs him inside the kitchen and closes the door behind them. He leads him first to Vesemir, who welcomes him warmly, and then to Aiden, who smiles and offers Coën a hug. Lambert fondly shakes his head at the sight of his lover and his friend finally meeting, he's looking forward to the both of them getting to know each other and hopes that they'll get along. He can already picture all the trouble they'll be able to get into together, he feels like it's going a great winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done!  
> I loved writing this story and I'm glad you all liked it too!
> 
> I want to thank you all for your support, thank you for your kudos and your lovely comments, I love hearing about your thoughts!!


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